


Coming Back to You

by Taarbas



Series: Webbing [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Cameras, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Feeding Kink, Fisting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Non-Canon Redemption Arc, Oviposition, Praise Kink, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, im not caught up on exrid, sex on camera, so i have no idea where prowls sposed to be, this was sposed to be a quick oneshot, valveplug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taarbas/pseuds/Taarbas
Summary: There were three things that Mesothulas felt were essential Prowl as a person. One: he was a workaholic, two: he couldn't take care of himself, and three: he was a lonely bastard who was terrible with mechs. After an experiment goes wrong and he ends up jailed, Mesothulas expects Prowl to have moved on. However, after being released and attempting to start off on the right pede, Tarantulas finds not much has changed, and Prowl's still a sad fool who can't get over an ex.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be completely honest this was supposed to be a quick PWP but then it spiraled and this happened. Hopefully the chapter splits make sense since it wasn't supposed to be in chapters.

     The message had come to Prowl at exactly 18:41:23, popping into his feed with a small “ping!” and a cheeky emoticon that had Prowl gnashing his dentae and nearly snapping his stylus. Primus damned Rewind. Prowl had ignored the message, rubbing his chevron as his processor ache grew. A quick check of his HUD showed multiple warnings, two for low fuel levels and one warning that he needed to recharge soon. Dismissing them all, he returned to work, the ping of the next message nearly making him startle out of his chair. Cursing aloud, Prowl dismissed it, optics blurring as he attempted to reread the damage reports from Jazz. So far, the mission on Earth was going well: the humans had accepted the cybertronians, Thundercracker was still playing Autobot, and the Wreckers had largely kept out of trouble. 

     Prowl had no reason to be stressed, and yet, here he was, nearly frying his circuits out for the third time in as many months. Optimus would kill him if he found out, which simply meant Prowl had to keep him from finding out. Another message popped into his feed, this one the shortest by far, and Prowl sighed, getting to his pedes. He wasn’t going to view them. He would simply grab a cube of energon, go back to his desk, and do his paperwork. Rewind could try to get a rise out of him, but Prowl didn’t have to give him the satisfaction of a reaction; of how much it actually irritated him. 

     Returning to his desk, he set down his cube of energon and returned to his reports. Just three more, he reasoned, and then he could refuel. It wouldn’t be too long then, and he had worked longer and harder on less. Just a few more hours, and then he could open the messages and see what stupidity Rewind was up to now. No doubt it was vaguely illegal, and no doubt any reports he would try to send to Ultra Magnus would get mysteriously lost, though whether that was Rewind tampering with his comm link or Rodimus deleting things, he couldn’t be certain. 

     It was quiet for all of two hours before another message came in, this one goading him to watch the others.  _ I promise you’ll see something you like _ , it read, with a small picture of what looked like Chromedome’s servo tensed into a claw attached. Unbidden, heat bloomed behind his panel, his fans clicking on. The gesture was familiar, one Prowl had learned meant Chromedome was close to overloading. He could still hear the breathy little gasps he’d make, or the fucked out whimpers when Prowl dug his fingers into his valve  _ just right _ -

     The sound of his stylus snapping jerked Prowl back to the present, the shards of metal digging into his servo. Grumbling a curse, Prowl shook them off, rubbing the sore cuts in his palm before closing the datapads and getting to his pedes. It would be useless for him to try to work this distracted, and besides, he could afford to take a small break. Stretching, he left his office, heading down the halls until he reached his habsuite. It was dark, the only light coming from a few far off stars. Double checking the locks, and then triple checking that none of his monitors were on, Prowl crossed the room to his berth, sitting up against the wall. For a time, he just sat, letting the sound of his own ventilations fill the room as he stared at nothing in particular. On one servo, he could just delete the messages and not give Rewind the satisfaction of him having read them, but on the other, he was desperately curious, especially after that photo of Chromedome’s servo. With a defeated sigh, Prowl let his helm tip back, pulling up his HUD and the first message from Rewind. He offlined his optics as he hit play, the video starting up without a hitch. 

_      “Rewind! Rewind! Aah!” _ Chromedome chanted, his legs spread as far as they would go as Rewind worked his little fist in and out of his conjunx’s valve. Lubricants splattered against their berth, soaking his arm. It was only the size of a slightly larger than average spike, but Chromedome was still yowling and mewling like a cheap pleasure bot, his torso twisting against cords Rewind had crisscrossed down his chest and legs. Rewind twisted his wrist, and Chromedome absolutely  _ howled _ , his visor going offline as his back tried to arch, servos grabbing at their sheets. There were a few tears in them already, no doubt from his needles popping out and catching. With a small hum, Rewind pulled his servo free, a gush of lubricants following and staining the berth. A small pool of lubricants had formed in Rewind’s palm, more forming sticky webbing between his fingers. The camera shifted as Rewind crawled up Chromedome, tapping his clean servo against his faceplate until it pulled back to reveal his drool covered mouth, his lips bit and swollen. Without any hesitation, Rewind stuffed his fingers into his mouth, smearing lubricants across his face. 

     The video cut off, leaving Prowl in darkness. His ventilations had grown to a dull roar, his servos tangled in his own sheets as his dentae grit together hard enough to make his jaw ache. Slowly, he forced his jaw and servos to unclench, groaning in frustration. His frame already felt overheated, memories of him and Chromedome together running through his processor as he loaded the second video. 

_      “Did you need something, Domey?” _ Rewind teased, clearly riding his lover’s spike as he held a wand to his node. Prowl could just barely make out a large false spike stuffed into Chromedome’s valve, the hum of it vibrating nearly drowned out by the loud growl of the wand. Chromedome was sobbing, hips trying to buck against their bonds while he sobbed. 

_      “Please Rewind, please! Mer- Oh Primus!” _ He was sobbing, his vocalizer filled with static and loud popping malfunctions as he begged Rewind, though for what, Prowl wasn’t certain. Coolant dotted Chromedome’s frame, mixing with what looked like oral solvents and a frankly ridiculous amount of lubricants and transfluid, the bright pink a stark contrast to his pale plating.  _ “Rewind I’m sorry!” _ He sobbed out, Rewind’s name and “sorry” pulled out into long, gasping moans that had Prowl’s array burning hot and pinging him to be opened. He dismissed it, intent on Rewind shifting, hooking a leg over Chromedome’s to ride him a little easier. 

_      “Oh I’m sure you are. You’re so naughty sometimes, Domey.”  _ Another cry, and Prowl could almost see the slag-eating smirk in Rewind’s visor.  _ “Tell me, Domey, who do you belong to? Who makes you feel this good?”  _ Chromedome’s shudder was strong enough to shake Rewind, the camera unfocusing for a second while Chromedome fought to reboot his vocalizer.

_      “You! You- Oh Primus you do!” _ He sobbed, Rewind twisting to zoom in on his face. His visor was pulled into a pinched, desperate expression, tears and drool dripping down his face as his mouth hung open in long, loud moans. Transfluid still streaked across his face, mixing with the saliva to create a viscous mess that hung off his chin in thick ropes or strung between his dentae. 

_      “I want a name,”  _ Rewind replied in a flat tone, grinding his hips down in a circle and making Chromedome shriek. 

_      “Rewind! I belong to Rewind!”  _ Chromedome cried, helm falling back as he sobbed,  _ “Rewind makes me feel this good! Please Rewind, honey, I’m so sorry!”  _ Anything further was lost to desperate sobs and gasps as Rewind began working the wand in circles, rubbing over Chromedome’s node as he picked up the pace he rode at. Chromedome’s fans whined, loud enough to be heard over his sobs as his vocalizer began to hitch and hiccup. His visor seemed to have crashed a long while ago as he thrashed his helm around, pulling at the restraints and trying to buck up into Rewind, with no such luck. A loud shriek of static coupled with a gushing of lubricants from his valve signalled his overload, the video cutting off shortly after.

Prowl’s vents sounded quiet after the ruckus of the video. Somewhere along the line, his optics had offlined themselves, thighs pressing together as much as they could in a sad attempt at stimulation. Multiple requests to open his panel had popped into his feed, and with a frustrated groan, Prowl let them retract. Immediately, a small pool of lubricants spilled onto his berth, his spike pressurizing and drooling onto his belly as his servo slipped between his thighs and cupped his swollen valve. It felt engorged, too full of energon and long ignored. When was the last time he had overloaded? He couldn’t remember. His node felt overly swollen and sensitive as his fingers brushed over it, and with a frustrated whimper he settled for rubbing his valve lips, pinning them open and exposing his node and hole for an imaginary audience. Chromedome used to love it, especially if he was restrained; forced to sit still and pretty in a chair while Prowl fucked himself on his fingers or one of their toys-

Shaking off his fantasy, Prowl loaded the third video, fingers idly playing with a valve lip as it loaded. Prowl nearly overloaded at the sight he was greeted with, his dentae nearly going through his glossa as he bit down.

_      “You’re so naughty Chromedome. Such a naughty, naughty mech,”  _ Rewind sighed, pulling Chromedome’s valve lips open to expose his swollen rim dripping with transfluid. The cables had been removed, and he was on his servos and knees now, helm bowed as Rewind knelt behind him.  _ “Lookit you. What if someone saw you?” _ Chromedome whined, his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up. Rewind’s fingers traced over his rim, coming away wet before they slid down his thighs, petting over small dents that would work themselves out and obvious lashes from some kind of whip. The entirety of his thighs and aft were covered in them, some weeping energon while most were just dark. Prowl’s vents hitched as Rewind pulled his lips back apart, holding them open and zooming the camera in close. It was lewd and disgusting, and yet Prowl found himself leaning forwards, as if he could see better or get a taste of his ex again. 

His valve bared down on nothing, and Prowl whimpered into his empty room, digging a finger into himself and pressing against a cluster of nodes incessantly. Stars popped across his HUD, but he ignored them in favor of focusing on the treat in front of him. Rewind hummed as he continued to stroke prod at Chromedome, his fingers practically dyed pink. His rim kept twitching, trying to coax those fingers back inside as more lubricant dripped down his thighs, his fans whining in their effort to cool him down. Rearing his servo back, Rewind smacked his valve, the tips of his  fingers catching his node while Chromedome squirmed, nearly losing his balance as he moaned. 

_      “So very naughty,”  _ Rewind continued, his servo rearing back, only to crash down on Chromedome’s upper thigh. Prowl felt himself flinch at the sound of the crack, but his servo didn’t slow as he whimpered and dug another finger inside himself, twisting them against the roof of his valve as his pedes kicked in frustration. Prowl remembered well how much Chromedome liked to be spanked, often going out of his way to “upset” his lover in the hopes they’d haul him across their lap. Prowl had been more than willing to indulge him, their nights often ending with Chromedome sprawled across Prowl’s knees, dripping lubricants over them both as he wailed and squirmed and begged for more. The memory made him shiver, his spike twitching desperately and smearing fluid across his abdomen. 

Apparently, time hadn’t changed his preferences, as his arms gave out with a small cry from his vocalizer. Rewind didn’t break his rhythm, though Prowl could hear him giggle softly as Chromedome trembled and covered his helm with his arms, rocking his hips back and up to meet Rewind’s smacks.  _ “Really? This arouses you too? Whatever am I going to do with you?”  _ Rewind teased, stopping to pinch Chromedome’s glowing node. He squealed, bolting back up onto his servos as his thighs threatened to snap shut around Rewind’s arm.  _ “Such a naughty, naughty boy, Chromedome. I can’t wait to punish you.” _ Prowl gasped, arching into his servo as he overloaded, transfluid splattering across his stomach as lubricants soaked his servo and thighs, leaving him a sticky mess. The video had ended on Rewind’s words, and Prowl whimpered, squirming in his berth as his processor went wild, pulling all sorts of lewd fantasies from Prowl’s psyche and playing them in graphic detail behind his optics. 

A message from Jazz popped into his feed, forcing him to online his optics and stop indulging in his lascivious desires. Sitting up, Prowl sighed, staring at his messy servo in a mix of disgust and shame. He could hardly believe he’d self serviced to a video of his ex and his new partner fragging. The thought made bile rise in his throat, and he quickly sent Rewind an angry message, telling him that if he sent that kind of thing again, he’d report him to Ultra Magnus, before getting up and washing his servos. Another low fuel warning popped into his feed, and with an angry grumble, Prowl returned to his office, settling into his chair and picking up the datapad he had abandoned. If he worked through part of his recharge cycle, he could make up for the lost time.

Despite Prowl’s threats, the videos became a common occurrence after that. Usually, he would receive anywhere from three to six videos in a day, all of them completely lewd, and all of them featuring Chromedome wrapped around Rewind’s finger in some way. It made Prowl burn with jealousy, the sight of his ex sprawled out under someone new making his spark turn and his dentae grit. He couldn’t deny, however, that he found himself self servicing after every set, fingers digging deep into his valve and servo curling around his spike until it was painful. He would never let Rewind in on that little secret, instead threatening him with reports after each instance. Rewind never replied, and for that, Prowl was incredibly grateful. His threats were transparent, clearly a last ditch attempt to save at least  _ some _ of his dignity. 

_      Prowler, got a visitor for you _ , Jazz’s comm broke Prowl’s focus, making him groan in frustration. 

_      Just tell him to come to my office. _ And then after a few beats,  _ Wait, why are you telling me this? You’re security, not secretarial. _

_      I was tryin’ to be nice. Ran into them before they got to the front desk, so I thought I’d let you know. _

_      How can you be sure they want me? _ Another message popped into Prowl’s feed, this one from the polite minibot who worked the front desk. Prowl could never remember their name, granted, they hardly ever talked to one another. Prowl wasn’t exactly popular, and as a result almost never had visitors, save for Optimus or Jazz, both who had free reign of the building. He could almost hear Jazz’s familiar, warm chuckle as he read his reply before opening the minibot’s.

_      Oh trust me, they want you. _ Prowl shook his helm, opening the message and skimming the contents. A scientist apparently. Prowl could handle that. Sending a quick reply to tell them to come to his office, he returned to his work. No doubt it was Wheeljack, intent on being a pain in the aft. Or Starscream, being an even bigger one. With his luck it’d be Skyfire, still angry about his treatment. Granted, if Prowl was in his place, he would have been too. Bowing his helm, Prowl returned to work, not pausing even as he heard the tell tale dull thump from a mech walking on the tile outside his office. 

“Prowl.” They said in greeting, and Prowl’s helm snapped up in shock, staring at the purple and green mech in shock. Of all the exes he expected to show up in his office, this was the last. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you miss me?” Their voice was filled with barely constrained glee as they sauntered forward, mandibles twitching in pleasure as they leaned over the desk. A servo came up to cup Prowl’s cheek, pulling him close for a kiss on the opposite side. Prowl stared, open mouthed and wide opticed as Tarantulas pulled a chair up and sat down as casually as if they had met for breakfast. 

“What are you doing here?” Prowl began, Tarantulas’ multiple arms coming to rest on his desk. 

“Simple. I came to see you. Jazz told me you’re overworking yourself again. My poor, sweet Prowl, always so stubborn. You really should learn to take care of yourself, sweet thing.” Prowl shook his helm, appalled Tarantulas was so casual.

“Weren’t you in prison?” Tarantulas chuckled, optics crinkling in amusement. 

“Of course Prowl. But they let me out. Told me I’d been a good boy and sent me on my way. So long as I don’t start experimenting on the populace again, I have a place in post-war Cybertron. So I figured I’d pay my muse a visit, see how he was doing without anyone to keep him warm at night.” Prowl felt himself flush at that, doorwings going stiff as he got to his pedes, bracing himself on his desk to glare down at Tarantulas.

“What do you want? And don’t give me your bullscrap. I want answers, and if they aren’t good enough, I’ll throw you out of my office so fast your head’ll spin.” Tarantulas chuckled, sighing in delight as he stared up at Prowl. 

“Now Prowl, we both know you won’t do that. Come, talk with me awhile. We could go to dinner-”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere with you.” 

“Then we can stay here and chat. I’m not picky. I just want a second chance. A chance to make everything up to you. I know we parted on...less than good terms, but I think we could patch everything up.” Prowl frowned, mulling over his options. He could call security and have Tarantulas tossed out faster than he could do any real damage, but Tarantulas had a point. Prowl could count the number of “friends” he had on one servo,and still have fingers left over. He was lonely, primus damn it, and as much as he hated to admit it, the thought of patching everything up with at least one mech was better than one, even if that one mech was Tarantulas. He had already made a right mess of his and Chromedome’s relationship, and the Constructicons only cared for him because he led Devastator. If he hadn’t combined with them, they would have payed him no mind either. Optimus didn’t like him, Bumblebee had hated his guts, anyone who was once a ‘con would pay to see him brutally eviscerated (though he supposed he deserved that), and Jazz had better people to occupy his time with. 

“...I would like that,” He tried, sinking back down into his chair. Tarantulas’ practically beamed, servos clapping together as his extra arms curled in delight. 

“You won’t regret it Prowl!” Prowl felt himself relax slightly, letting his shoulders drop. As much as he hated to admit it, the relationship they had shared when Tarantulas still went by Mesothulas had been the best Prowl had ever had, and if he hadn’t gone and tried to make the noisemaze, Prowl felt they had stayed together for much, much, longer. Thankfully, he had been caught fairly quickly, and never actually got to use the noisemaze, his last experiment being what landed him in his current state. After being hauled off to prison, Prowl had figured he would never see him again. Clearly, he was mistaken, and he’d never been happier to be wrong. 

“I’ve heard you’ve gotten yourself into quite some trouble since I’ve been gone,” Tarantulas began, and Prowl made to reply, only for his retort to die on his glossa as a familiar pinging noise resounded in his helm. A message from Rewind sat in his HUD, no doubt filled with some horrible, filthy, video of him and Chromedome. Prowl felt his fans spin up, face flushing as he stared at the message with rapt attention. 

“My my, you’ve  _ really _ missed me,” Tarantulas crooned, brow pulled up in amusement. Prowl glared, about to reply when another message came in, one more following right after. Prowl’s knees felt weak as his processor provided plenty of fantasy material for him to reflect on, keeping him from focusing on Tarantulas. He hadn’t even noticed the scientist had moved until he was kneeling at Prowl’s arm, servo’s resting on his own and multiple extra limbs placing themselves on his shoulders and upper arm. Prowl jerked back to reality, staring at Tarantulas for a few beats as his fans worked to cool himself. Shame burned across his face as he came to, shutting his fans down despite how hot he was running. 

“Yes, Tarantulas?” He grit out, fingers curling over the edge of the armrest of his chair. 

“You’re not well. We can’t have that, now can we, Prowl?” 

“I’m fine,” He snapped, getting to his pedes. To his humiliation, coolant dripped down  his frame, more warnings against his temperature popping up in his feed. His struts felt weak, legs trembling as he attempted to stand ramrod straight. Tarantulas saw right through it. 

“No, you’re not.” Prowl yelped as he was unceremoniously picked up, the extra limbs looming above him as Tarantulas walked into the hall. “Where’s your room?” Prowl stubbornly refused to answer, instead squirming in Tarantulas’ grip. Another message had come in, and Prowl shivered, staring at it longingly. 

“Then I’ll take you to the medbay.” Prowl jerked in his grip with a shout of “no!”, grabbing at Tarantulas’ forearms. 

“Down the hall! Down the hall and to the left!” He cried, attempting to thrash and kick his legs. Tarantulas’ grip tightened, impossibly strong despite his thin frame, and headed down the hall, following Prowl’s directions until they were inside Prowl’s dark habsuite. Without hesitation, Tarantulas strode up to Prowl’s berth, effortlessly setting the other mech down and looming over him. Prowl shuddered, staring up at the bright yellow optics and strange mouth. 

“You’re burning up…” Tarantulas muttered, servo resting on Prowl’s chevron. Prowl shuddered, optics offlining as Rewind began sending suggestive pictures from the videos, complete with absolutely filthy messages beneath them. They were degrading and horrible, mocking Prowl for his obvious interest, but Prowl ate it up regardless. A small groan left his vocalizer before he could stop it, his fans finally winning the fight and clicking on. Tarantulas froze, mandibles parting slightly as stared at Prowl. He almost seemed to be scenting the air…

Prowl froze as a trickle of lubricant made its way down his thigh, Tarantulas’ optics blazing like stars. He could smell it, Prowl knew he could just by his body language. “Tarantulas-” He began, but was cut off.

“I see. I will talk to you tomorrow, Prowl. Have fun with your partner.” Prowl whimpered, bolting upright as Tarantulas headed towards the door. 

“Wait!” He cried, ashamed at how desperate it came out. “Wait, please,” He tried again, and Tarantulas paused, turning to look at him. “Please, Tarantulas, please. Don’t go. W-We could, like old times-” Tarantulas hissed, cutting Prowl off again.  
“And how can I be sure you actually want this? I’m sorry Prowl, but we hardly know each other anymore. Good night.” With that, he left, the door sliding shut behind him with a click. Prowl could hear him walking away, and waited until the footsteps had faded to almost nothing before turning over and groaning in frustration against his pillow. Shame weighed heavy in his tanks as Prowl sifted through the messages, eventually pulling up the first one and queuing the rest in their proper order. He could hate himself in the morning. 

Morning came, and with it a few messages from Tarantulas. The first two were simply apologies for barging in on him, as well as any offense that may have been had at his refusal, while the last one was an invitation to lunch. Prowl hesitated despite the message saying they could simply meet in Prowl’s office again. Sending a quick reply that they could meet in a nearby bar, Prowl closed his HUD, heading back to his office and setting to work. He couldn’t let himself stay still, or the shame over what was happening with Rewind would eat him alive. He almost wished Tarantulas was there, at least then he would be distracted with his antics, which lately seemed much more likely to hold his attention than his paperwork, a problem that had him fretting endlessly. 

The hours ticked by, dragging for once instead of going by too fast, and before Prowl knew it he was heading out onto the streets of Cybertron, weaving through crowded sidewalks until he reached a seedy little bar the Constructicons had adored. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had told Tarantulas this one, Maccadams was far more well known, but he had, and now he had to live with the consequences. It was packed, unsurprisingly, multiple drunk mechs draped over one another and shouting loudly across the room. Some were in groups, others pairs, while some were alone, face down on the bar and either passed out or sobbing. 

In hindsight, it was a grim place to try to meet an old friend. Prowl moved through the groups with a cautious step, ever mindful that most of these mechs had been cons in the war, and as a result would want him dead. Before, he had had the Constructicons with him, who were more than willing to throw people out onto the street if they tried to pick a fight. But now? He was alone. Cursing his own stupidity, Prowl took a seat at the bar, watching as the scarred bartender mixed a small group of minibots something bright green and filled with what looked like crystallized energon. He didn’t recognize any of them, and silently hoped none of them had participated in the war. Granted, it was next to impossible to find anyone who  _ hadn’t _ been in the war. 

“You seem distracted, sweet thing.” Prowl jumped at the sound next to his audial, whirling around on his stool to come face to face with Tarantulas. His mandibles twitched, parting slightly as he scented Prowl. “What ails you?” Prowl sighed, putting his helm in his hands. 

“Just paranoid,” He replied. Tarantulas being this close should have made him even more paranoid, but instead his closeness made him feel a little bit better. His spark and processor didn’t spin quite so badly; they felt lulled near to sleep. A servo cupped the side of his helm, turning it to face Tarantulas. His face was pulled into a small grimace as he took hold of Prowl’s chin, turning his helm this way and that. 

“What happened to your optic? I thought maybe you just had it offlined yesterday, but it’s gone.” Prowl felt embarrassment well in his intake. Normally, he didn’t care much for his appearance (and by Primus he wasn’t going to change that) but for once he felt self conscious about his missing optic. Tarantulas’ grip was like a vice as Prowl attempted to turn away, hiding his shame, which only made Prowl flush more. 

“Optimus and I had a disagreement.” Tarantulas hummed, mandibles flexing out as he did so. They were so close, they nearly touched Prowl’s face. He seemed concerned, but didn’t press the issue, instead cupping Prowl’s face in both servos and gently stroking over his cheekbones, jaw, lips-

“Are yall gonna order anything or just sit there?” The bartender huffed, single optic glaring down at the pair. The other was cracked, the light occasionally flickering on, only to spasm and shut off again. Tarantulas hissed, limbs tensing in irritation at being interrupted, but simply asked for a mixed drink Prowl hadn’t heard of and a Petrex Royal. The bartender grunted, turning his back to them and getting to work as Tarantulas cuddled up to Prowl with a small smirk. 

“You still drink those right?” At Prowl’s nod, he sighed. “Thank Primus. At least that hasn’t changed.” The drinks were placed in front of them, Tarantulas fingers immediately going for the piece of jelled energon sitting in Prowl’s drink. 

“Hey!” He snapped, lunging forward and grabbing Tarantulas’ servo. He was laughing, pulling away and picking up his own drink. 

“Just like old times,” Tarantulas chuckled around the rim of his glass, optics bright with delight as he watched Prowl. Prowl was biting back a smirk as he picked up his own drink, glossa darting out to lick the salt off the rim. It was a habit he had since he was constructed, one he hadn’t been able to shake no matter how much he tried.

“You’re still a thieving slagger.”

“And you still have a stick up your aft.” Prowl snorted into his drink, the banter familiar despite much having changed. It felt good, enough to warm his spark and spread relief through his sore circuits.  “Have you refueled today?” At the shake of his helm, Tarantulas was calling the bartender back over, asking about what sort of energon they carried. Prowl cringed as the bartender rattled off the standard bar food, not good for a mech and likely to cause them to be lethargic and sick. It would make working more difficult. 

“Tarantulas, really, it’s fine. I’m not hungry anyway-” Tarantulas cut him off with a wave of a servo.

“I know you sweet thing. If you don’t refuel in front of me, you won’t at all. Now hush up.” Prowl frowned, about to argue when the bartender set down a plate of jellied energon, coated in sweet minerals and filled with some sort of red gel that shined through the bright pink of the treat. Prowl felt his mouth water at the sight, tanks clenching in a stubborn reminder of how empty they were. To say he was running on fumes would have been generous, a fact Tarantulas seemed aware of as he picked up a treat and offered it to Prowl. 

“Really, I’m fi-” Before he could finish his sentence the cube was stuffed into his mouth, Tarantulas’ servo clapping over his intake to keep him from spitting it out. Prowl glared over the servo, attempting to bite Tarantulas but only managing to bite into the treat. It was already sweet without the gel inside,but nevertheless it was flavoured with something sweet enough for his dentae to ache. Prowl shivered, swallowing the treat while Tarantulas removed his servo. 

“Was that really nec-” Another treat stuffed into his mouth ended his attempt at a reproach, instead replaced with the sound of him chewing the soft sweet. 

“Yes. It was. I know you sweet thing. You don’t take care of yourself. It’s a shame, really,” Tarantulas sighed, picking up another treat with his free servo. “If I have to hand feed you every one of these, I will. Don’t think I won’t, sweet thing.” A high temperature warning popped into his feed at the same time his fans spun up, energon rushing to his face as he averted his optic. “Oh ho ho, does my little muse have something he’s not telling me?” Prowl shook his helm, swallowing the treat and trying to argue, only for another to once again be shoved right into his intake. After that, Prowl gave up, letting Tarantulas feed him until the plate was empty and Prowl’s tanks were protesting the rich treats. 

“I can’t believe you,” Prowl grumbled, Tarantulas’ optic ridge arching.

“Well, someone’s certainly cranky. Perhaps I need to get you more food,” Prowl’s engine revved, and he glared as Tarantulas began to giggle maniacally. “Oh that is  _ rich _ . You never shared that little kink with me, sweet thing.” Prowl shook his helm, finishing his drink and checking his chronometer. He should be heading back, but if he were being honest, he didn’t want to, a rarity for Prowl. Still, he had work to do. Getting to his pedes, he laid some shanix on the bar. 

“I have to get going, I still have work to do. Thank you, Tarantulas.” The mech smiled, getting to his pedes. 

“I’ll walk back with you. Can’t have such a pretty thing like yourself getting jumped.” Prowl snorted, but didn’t tell Tarantulas to leave. 

“Please,” He said once they had left the bar, “I’ve been in a war for the past few centuries. I’m sure I could take anyone who tried to jump me.”

“Oh but still,” Tarantulas replied, arm brushing with Prowl’s as they walked, “Such a pretty thing, you shouldn’t be alone.” Prowl laughed, an actual, full laugh. 

“I’ve put on weight, in case you haven’t noticed. And I’ve been retooled so many times; I’m shocked you even recognized me.” 

“Of course! I would know that angelic face anywhere,” Tarantulas crooned, leaning down to pinch Prowl’s cheek and pull his helm to face him. Prowl pulled away with a shake of his helm, snorting as they continued their walk. For a long while, there was no sound but their pedes on the sidewalk, when a familiar ping drew Prowl’s attention. Two more followed in rapid succession, and then one more shortly after. Prowl’s fans kicked on as he read the little descriptions Rewind had been so helpful as to provide, energon rushing to his cheeks. 

Servos wrapping around his arms and spinning him around made Prowl yelp, optic refocusing to come face to face with Tarantulas. “What has gotten into you, sweet thing? You just...stopped. Is something bothering you?” Prowl stammered, caught off guard by the concern in his face. 

“N-No,” Prowl replied, attempting to extract himself from the other’s grip. He let go of him, however reluctantly, but pressed on with his questions. 

“Then why stop? You keep getting a thousand yard stare. Did you take a blow to the helm? Sweet thing, please, tell me what’s wrong,” Tarantulas pleaded, and Prowl almost replied, only for another ping to draw his attention away. Another lewd message accompanied it, this one teasingly asking Prowl if he would like a turn at Chromedome. In reality, there was no chance in either Rewind or Chromedome wanting to invite him to their activities, but the thought still made Prowl ache, heat blooming under his plating despite the chill in the air. 

“Prowl!” Tarantulas snapping at him brought him back. “Someone is sending you something, aren’t they? Are you being threatened? I can make them disappear for you, sweetspark. I may have been gone, but I still have my contacts.” Prowl shook his helm, shame burning his circuits. How was he supposed to admit something like this to another mech? Let alone one he wanted to patch up an already rocky relationship with. 

“It’s...an ex of mine. We parted on poor terms, and I’m not fully over it yet. His partner keeps sending me vids of them..together.” Just saying the words felt dirty. Tarantulas, to his credit, didn’t react, simply regarding Prowl with his same pleasant, if concerned, expression.

“It’s clearly upsetting you.” Prowl shook his helm, about to blurt out he  _ liked _ the vids, only to stop himself at the last second. “What? Prowl, I know I’ve been gone. I know you don’t trust me yet, but I want to help. Do you need them to quit? Because I could make them do that. I could do anything if it was for you, sweet thing.” Prowl beat back a shiver, resuming their walk and dipping his helm as he attempted to figure out how to word his next statement. 

“They...they aren’t bad vids. No one get’s hurt, no one blackmails me. They’re just, just…” Prowl trailed off, and Tarantulas sighed. 

“Would it be best to just show me?” Prowl found himself nodding against his better judgement. Tarantulas didn’t push the issue after that, simply following Prowl back to the government building and pausing awkwardly at the stairs that led inside. “Shall I come back around dinner?” Prowl hesitated, debating calling off the whole thing if only to save what little dignity he had left, before ultimately nodding with a sigh.

“Around 18:00 then. I’ll meet you out here.” Tarantulas nodded, watching as Prowl climbed the steps and disappeared into the building before heading off himself. 


	2. Chapter 2

     Around 17:30 the reality of what he planned to do set in. Getting to his pedes, Prowl began pacing the length of his office, datapad in one servo as he attempted to still work on his reports. The words swam in front of his optic, meshing into an indecipherable ball while his HUD fed low energy warnings to him with a healthy dash of low fuel alerts. Kicking his chair, Prowl cursed, dropping the datapad onto his desk. It would be easy to call everything off. He could comm the minibot who worked the front desk and tell them he wasn’t taking visitors, he could comm Jazz and tell him to escort Tarantulas off the property on sight, Primus, he could just not show up and hope the damned scientist would take the hint and scurry off. More messages from Rewind had poured in, all of them somehow worse than the last, and Prowl was getting close to breaking and either watching all of them in one fell swoop or ripping his own chevron off in frustration. 

_      Are we still doing this? _ The comm from Tarantulas appeared above Rewind’s newest message, and Prowl flinched at the sight. He could always lie and say something had come up; he had a meeting, Ultra Magnus was stopping by, Optimus had come and needed reports filed, he was in the medbay purging- Sighing in defeat, Prowl sent back a quick “yes” before heading out of his office and down the hall, avoiding optic contact with security as he headed outside and nearly barreled right into Tarantulas. 

     “You seem nervous, sweet thing,” Was the first thing out of Tarantulas’ mouth once Prowl steadied himself. His face burned, optic darting to the sidewalk as he began walking without waiting to see if Tarantulas would follow. 

     “Of course. No one else is aware this has been going on,” Prowl’s tone was brisk as he led Tarantulas through the maze that was Cybertron, barely paying attention to where he was headed. 

     “And how long has it been going on?” Tarantulas had caught up with him, long legs making the job a little easier. Prowl felt his flush climb up his face, and sighed, turning down the first street he saw. 

     “A few days...maybe a few weeks,” Tarantulas frowned, but didn’t comment as Prowl led them down yet another turn, this one trapping them in an alley. Groaning, Prowl went to turn and head back, only to be stopped by a servo around his arm. 

     “Prowl. This isn’t good. And besides, you’ve gotten us lost. C’mon now,” Tarantulas hooked his arm under Prowl’s, dragging him out of the alley and down a few side streets until they were back on the main road. Prowl let himself be led, following Tarantulas through Cybertron until they came up to a small diner, the sign in the window half lit and the concrete steps beginning to crack. Prowl usually would protest against such an obviously poor establishment, but he was tired. His optic felt like it would burn out at any moment, and his processor still screamed and spun, HUD filled with multiple warnings in regards to his own health and messages from Rewind. 

     Without any hesitation, Tarantulas dragged Prowl in and off to a booth in the corner, getting him to sit on one side while he took the other. A server came up, Tarantulas easily ordering for them both, and before Prowl knew it Tarantulas was on his side, pressed up against his side. His fur tickled Prowl’s plating, and without hesitating Prowl was grabbing onto it, using it as an anchor as he tried to steady his helm. 

     “What is it they’re actually sending you?” Tarantulas asked as soon as Prowl had grounded himself. The server came by, not batting an optic at their shift in seating arrangements, merely setting down drinks before going on their way. The diner was strangely empty, Prowl noted, but he found he didn’t care.

     “Vids. Of themselves,” Prowl tried to dodge the question, but at Tarantulas’ glare, he sighed and elaborated. “Rewind keeps sending me...videos of him and Chromedome. Granted, he used to before, but these are different. Before it was them on dates or being happy, now it’s, well…” Prowl trailed off, bowing his helm and sifting through the videos he had saved, picking the most tame one to send to Tarantulas. “Now it’s that.” The scientist raised an optic ridge, but seemed to open the vid, as his optics took on the distant look of those focused on their HUDs. Prowl felt himself shrink more into the seat as Tarantulas’ optics widened, clearly shocked by the sight before him. Shame twisted his tanks, threatening to purge them as Prowl began to run hot. 

     A dark chuckle came from Tarantulas the second the vid ended, making Prowl jump in his seat as he looped an arm around Prowl, pulling him close to whisper conspiratorially in his audial. “So...that’s what’s got you all worked up, sweet thing. Are there more?” At Prowl’s nod, Tarantulas practically purred, mandibles twitching and rubbing together in delight. “Good, good. I can hold these for you, splice them together into some kind of blackmail-” 

     “Don’t!” Prowl yelped, grinding his dentae together and mentally chiding himself for his outburst. “Don’t. I can- I’ll handle them.” Tarantulas tutted, clicking his mandibles together as he leaned close enough for their foreheads to bunt together. 

     “Clearly you can’t. You need someone to help you, Prowl.” Prowl glared, hating to admit he was right. “I can help you, sweet thing. You just have to let me.” His servo cupped Prowl’s cheek, letting him nuzzle against Prowl’s helm before pulling away and taking a drink from the same weird mixed drink as before. 

     “Since when do diners serve alcohol?” Prowl found himself asking, to which Tarantulas shrugged. 

     “Is that really the issue right now?” Tarantulas shot back, taking another drink before continuing. “Now, let’s start simple. Why keep these videos?” Prowl felt his fans spin up, humiliation curling low in his tank as he attempted to push himself further into the corner. Tarantulas didn’t seem phased, simply watching him from his spot on the bench. “Do they fulfill something in you?” Prowl shook his helm, faceplates still burning. He was barely resisting the urge to either punch Tarantulas, or hide his face like a young organic. 

     “Then why keep them?” When Prowl didn’t answer, Tarantulas leaned closer, optics narrowed in consideration. “Perhaps they do something for you...give you something you haven’t had in a long, long time…” Tarantulas’ voice dropped, one of his extra limbs coming to rest on Prowl’s shoulder as he slid a little closer. Prowl jolted as their hips brushed together, Tarantulas’ own thin, soft one a foreign sensation against Prowl’s plating. “Is that why you begged me to stay? Do they burn you up that bad, sweet thing?” A whimper built in Prowl’s throat as Tarantulas looped an arm around his back, rubbing his other arm soothingly. 

     “Y-Yes,” Prowl choked out, staring at his drink as if it would save him from his own embarrassment. The waiter came back, setting two dishes of some strange energon concoction that made Prowl’s mouth water. 

     “Oh, poor dear,” Tarantulas purred as soon as he left, pulling Prowl closer and guiding his leg to rest over his own. “I can help you sweet thing. You only need to ask,” His mandibles brushed the side of Prowl’s helm as he spoke, and Prowl barely bit back a whimper, nodding his helm. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Prowl yelped as Tarantulas hooked a servo under his bumper and around his hip, hauling him into his lap and shifting him until he was snuggled against Tarantulas, his multiple extra limbs coming down to gently caress and pet his plating. 

     “We’re in a diner,” Prowl hissed, biting back a moan as Tarantulas’ fingers hooked in the gap between his bumper and abdomen, rubbing the wires underneath. 

     “There’s no one here, sweet thing.” Prowl glared, and Tarantulas sighed, servos returning to more appropriate places. He didn’t, however, remove Prowl from his lap. “Perhaps I could come by sometime, keep you company.” Prowl chewed at his lip, knowing full well if people saw Tarantulas coming into the building late at night they would talk, and that talk would come back to him, without a doubt. Attempting to weigh the pros and cons while held in his lap, however, was proving to be difficult, and Prowl squirmed, noting how Tarantulas’ breath hitched as he did so. 

     “How soon?” Tarantulas grinned against his helm, mandibles parting to allow him to press a small kiss to the back of it. 

     “How soon do you want me?” 

     “I get off at 22:00. Meet me in my hab no later than 22:10, or I’ll lock the door.” Tarantulas laughed, a full on guffaw as he cradled Prowl closer, pressing more kisses to his helm as his servos dropped to his stomach. 

     “Well, aren’t you a bossy little thing.” Prowl went to protest, only for an extra limb to clap over his mouth, muffling it as Tarantulas laughed. “Perhaps you should send me those videos, let me know how your tastes have evolved since I’ve been gone.” Prowl’s frame heated, his thighs clenching as he grabbed his drink, downing half of it. Opening his HUD, Prowl sent the folder he had been saving the vids in to Tarantulas, who choked on his drink when he saw the sheer amount there was. “My, my. You really have been lonely,” Tarantulas breathed, shaking his helm to clear his processor. Prowl smirked, about to take another drink when one of Tarantulas’ extra limbs suddenly covered the rim of the glass. 

     “When was the last time you refueled, sweet thing? Properly, I mean. Those energon jellies were a great treat, but I doubt you then went and actually ate.” Prowl glowered. 

     “I had a cube of energon or two after I went back to work,” Prowl bit out, only for Tarantulas to click his glossa and shake his helm. 

     “Prowl, sweetspark...I know when you’re lying. And you  _ are _ lying.” Locking an arm around Prowl, Tarantulas spooned some of the energon concoction and pressed it to Prowl’s lips. Locking his jaw, Prowl squirmed, only for his extra limbs to grip his shoulders and helm, forcing him still while Tarantulas pried his mouth open, pouring the energon into his mouth before clapping a servo over his lips. 

     “I can do this all night, sweet thing. But you’re going to finish your energon.” Prowl resisted the urge to spit it out out of pure spite alone, choking it down and glaring at Tarantulas. “That’s a good mech,” Tarantulas purred, and Prowl’s fans spun up, nearly clicking on before Prowl could slam them off. Another spoonful was raised to Prowl’s lips, and with a shudder he opened his mouth, letting Tarantulas feed him until the bowl of energon was empty and Prowl’s tanks were scrambling to get themselves back up to working order at the sudden flood of actual fuel. 

     “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tarantulas teased, and Prowl found himself shaking his helm, nuzzling against Tarantulas as he checked his chronometer. 19:15. He was supposed to be back fifteen minutes ago. 

     “Slag!” Prowl snapped, jumping up onto his pedes and nearly toppling their drinks in his scramble to get out of the booth. “Late- I’m late.” He explained as Tarantulas tried to ask. “Here, take these-” Shoving some shanix into Tarantulas’ servo he bolted, rushing out of the diner and transforming into his alt, joining the groups going along the highways. 

     Back at his desk, Prowl scrambled to get his datapads in order, nearly clearing a stack of them in his rush. “Slag, slag, slag, slag…” He muttered, grabbing his stylus and getting back to work. Shame burned in his tank, pricking up his backstrut to spread across his door wings and make them sag against his back. He could hardly believe he had let himself get that carried away. Overfueling, drinking, and now he was running late? Prowl wanted to kick himself, bash his helm into a wall until he got himself together again. He could work through the night, he reasoned. Keep himself up until all his work was finished and then allow himself a few hours to recharge, only to get up and do it again. 

     A message from Tarantulas popping into his feed reminded him why he couldn’t do that.  _ My, sweet thing. Those videos are something. I have a few ideas as to how we could soothe the pains they cause you.  _ Prowl flushed, swallowing around a lump in his intake as he shot a reminder of when they were meeting back before going right back to his work, one leg hooked over the other to take the edge off his burning array. 

     At exactly 22:00, Prowl stood, stretching until his backstrut popped before heading out into the dark hall, slipping into his hab without a sound. It would be the first time in, well, ever, that he went to his room on time, and not a full four to six hours late. His array was burning, memories of his past encounters with Mesothulas and the vids from Rewind and Chromedome played on loop in his processor, thoroughly distracting him from his work. What he had managed to get done was barely enough for the day, but Prowl supposed he would have to live with it. Besides, Tarantulas may not show anyway. The two really hadn’t parted on good terms, and even this desperate Prowl knew they were rushing. He wouldn’t blame Tarantulas at all for not showing up. 

     “Well well, look who it is,” A voice purred from somewhere near his doorwing, and Prowl whirled around, prepared to grab whoever it was. Eight vaguely servo shaped appendages gripped him all at once, holding him still to keep him from punching their owner. “Feisty. Good, I remember how much fun you were when you were in one of your moods.” Prowl flushed, attempting to squirm in his grasp. 

     “I told you I get off at 22, not to be here at 22!” Prowl snapped, attempting to salvage some of his pride as his fans spun up, clicking on despite his best efforts to keep them shut off. Tarantulas chuckled, stepping into Prowl’s personal space and pulling him out of the doorway, the locking mechanism activating with a small “click” as it shut, removing the only light in the room aside from their optics. 

     “ _ You’re _ the one who’s a stickler for timing,” Tarantulas replied, servos skimming down Prowl’s sides and squeezing just above his hips, “And besides, I wanted to get a few things ready.” Prowl arched an optic ridge. 

     “Get what ready?” Despite the low light, Prowl could see Tarantulas’ smirk, optics filled with delight as he pulled Prowl close, touches getting more insistent as he turned him around. Prowl’s breath hitched at the sight of a camera, set up on a tripod near the berth. “You’re kidding me.” 

     “I’m not. I figured, well, if you like vids so much, we could make our own...maybe even send them to Rewind as a sort of revenge.” Prowl flushed, leaning back against Tarantulas as he stared at the camera. 

     “What if Rewind shares it?” 

     “I could encrypt it, build a key into it so Rewind and Chromedome can access it, and then make it self destruct after they’ve viewed it. Or, I could simply dissect them if it were to get out.” As he spoke, Tarantulas bowed his helm, mandibles nibbling down Prowl’s neck cables. He squirmed, optic flickering and nearly offlining at the unfamiliar, but pleasant, sensation. Tarantulas hummed, one servo gripping Prowl’s hip while the other rested over his fuel tank, squeezing gently as his mandibles hooked around an energon line with a small tug. 

     The groan that left Prowl’s vocalizer at such a simple action was absolutely humiliating, but he tipped his helm back regardless, arching to get his neck closer to Tarantulas’ mouth. Already, Prowl could feel echoes of his past with Mesothulas; movements Tarantulas made, the ways his fans hitched before coming on, his reluctance to  _ really _ sink his dentae into Prowl- something that hopefully would still get abandoned fairly quickly, his tendency to pet Prowl’s stomach...it all was Mesothulus. Tarantulas hissed as Prowl rolled his hips back, grinding up against his interface array. 

     “Still such a filthy mech,” He hissed, the sharp tips of his mandibles pricking across Prowl’s neck in a way that had his sensornet winding up, his lines prickling with charge. They were sharper than Mesothulus’ had ever been, and Prowl’s knees went weak at the thought of them buried in his energon lines. “I see little has changed.” The tips of his fingers trailed up Prowl’s thigh, catching on a transformation seam and digging in. Prowl hissed, bowing forward and nearly slamming Tarantulas’ helm in his doorwings as they spasmed. To his credit, Tarantulas just chuckled, purring about how cute Prowl was before suddenly hauling him up, carrying him to the berth as if he weighed nothing. Extra limbs roamed across Prowl as he was carried, pressing against sensitive seams and petting him as if he was something precious, something to be treasured and worshipped and not used up and tossed aside-

     Getting dropped into a literal nest of pillows and blankets chased the thoughts from his processor, the soft fabric enveloping him as Tarantulas delicately perched on the side of the berth, watching him with half lit optics. Prowl flushed as he continued to stare, optics wandering lazily over Prowl’s frame, from the tips of his doorwings to his pedes and back up again. 

     “Do you actually plan on doing something? Or are you just going to look?” Prowl hissed, trying to disguise how his vocalizer strained and his fans whined. Tarantulas didn’t reply for a beat, before suddenly leaning over Prowl, cupping his face. 

     “By Primus you’re beautiful,” He breathed, his mandibles just barely moving as if in fear of scaring him off. “You’re gorgeous Prowl,” He continued, thumbs begging to rub circles into his cheeks, “I’d forgotten just how stunning you really are. I thought I remembered, but by Primus…” He trailed off, simply staring at Prowl for a time before letting his mandibles flex outwards, rubbing the gentle curve against Prowl’s lips before pulling away. Prowl’s fans whined as he sat up, his helm spinning and his spark whirling from the praise. It wasn’t exactly something he was used to. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, Prowl shifted, letting his doorwings spread out beneath him while Tarantulas fiddled with the camera. A small red light was the only indicator it was on at all; it was completely silent. 

     Tarantulas hummed, climbing onto the berth and pulling Prowl more into the nest of blankets, arranging them to prop him up and drape across his knees. They were warm, and impossibly soft, and Prowl let himself have a rare moment to relax, optic flickering as he sighed. It was nice, incredibly nice, but Prowl found himself frustrated. This wasn’t what he had been expecting, hadn’t been what he wanted. 

     “I thought you were here to frag me,” Prowl grumbled, about to get up before Tarantulas’ servo on his chest stopped him, forcibly holding him down. 

     “Don’t worry sweet thing, we’ll get there. It’s been  _ millenia _ , let me savour this.” Prowl huffed, about to complain when Tarantulas bowed his helm, working his mandibles around a minor energon line and teasily rubbing it with the gentle curve, not letting it near the sharp ends. A moan worked itself out of Prowl’s vocalizer as he tried to squirm, Tarantulas’ servo on his chest holding him still. He almost got somewhere, legs kicking and fighting for purchase on the soft fabric, only for Tarantulas to swing his own leg over his flailing one's, effectively straddling and pinning him in a smooth motion. Prowl whined, servos coming to grip Tarantulas’ thin hips as he rolled his own up. The limbs of his alt mode slipped across his arms, stroking the plating as Tarantulas’ free servo pressed against his lower abdomen, right above the start of his spike housing. Occasionally, his thumb would slip, pressing down on the seam of his cover. Desperate, Prowl continued rolling his hips, hoping to either unseat Tarantulas or make the other open his panels, though neither outcome seemed too likely. 

     “I’ll tie you up sweet thing, don’t think I won’t,” He warned, shoving his knee between Prowl’s thighs and letting him grind his valve cover against it. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? You used to love those cables I got...do you remember them? They were bright blue, like your optics...stood out so well against you. I could bind you up in them until you could hardly do more than  _ beg _ . Primus, I still wonder if I could have gotten you off just by tying you up, drag it out until your sensors are screaming...hmm. A pity we don’t have them anymore.” Prowl panted, turning his helm to the side as his fans reached their top speed, doing little to cool him. He shouldn’t have been so worked up, but it had been ages, and Prowl was desperate. 

     “Please!” He was ashamed at how much it came out like a whine, but Tarantulas seemed to light up with glee. 

     “Oh, oh sweet thing. Soon, very soon. But first,” Prowl shivered as Tarantulas finally bit into an energon line, pulling until the pink fluid splattered against Prowl’s plating. Darting his glossa out to lick it up, Tarantulas shivered, optics flickering up to Prowl’s face as he did so. As quickly as Tarantulas had been on top of Prowl, he was gone again, this time at his side, giving the camera full view of Prowl’s flushed frame. “You and I have some unfinished things to address.”

     “Like?!” Prowl tried to snap, but it came out weak and breathy. 

     “Well, for starters, you seem to have picked up on a few little kinks you didn’t have before, dearest. Or perhaps you just decided to be naughty and not tell me,” Prowl bit his glossa as Tarantulas searched his face, optics sparkling with excitement. “Either way, I plan to take  _ full _ advantage of them.” Reaching into his subspace, Tarantulas pulled a box out, setting it in his lap as he undid the silver ribbon it was bound up with. Prowl frowned, attempting to sit up and look closer, only for one of Tarantulas’ limbs to press into his chest, holding him down. 

     “Now now sweet thing, be patient or I’ll have to punish you. And I don’t think you want that, do you?” Prowl felt his struts go weak, the supportive metal feeling like liquid as he shook his helm, mouth suddenly very dry. The ribbon was removed and the lid lifted, Tarantulas’ reaching into the box and coming up with an energon goodie, coated in a soft looking white powder. Holding it up, Tarantulas smiled serenely, offering it to Prowl in full view of the camera. 

     “You’re so stressed Prowl, why don’t you let me help you indulge a little?” Scooting closer, Tarantulas pressed the treat to Prowl’s lips, optics bright as Prowl obediently bit into it, letting his lips brush Tarantulas’ fingers as he did so. The other mech’s vents hitched at that, optics blazing as he watched Prowl swallow the treat, glossa darting out to lick the powder off his mouth. His extra limbs were petting Prowl again, stroking his plating in soothing little circles while he fed him the rest of the treat, immediately picking up another and pressing it to Prowl’s mouth. He glared, about to make a snide remark about Tarantulas wanting to savour the moment yet having no patience, but the second his intake was open Tarantulas was stuffing the treat, and his fingers, into his mouth, rubbing over his dentae and glossa. 

     A small groan left Tarantulas vocalizer as he pulled his fingers free, oral lubricants coating them. Prowl’s fans spun up, his processor still trying to comprehend the gentle, reverent treatment Tarantulas was lavishing on him. He kept waiting for Tarantulas to do  _ something _ , something to make him feel bad, something to make his tanks turn in the worst way. Another treat was brought to Prowl’s lips, Tarantulas crooning praise to him as he obediently ate it. A ping popped into his HUD, warning his fuel processing equipment was damaged, and to see a medic. Prowl ignored it, knowing full well it was his own fault for not keeping himself properly fueled, and as such his tanks had begun to shut down “unnecessary” equipment. Prowl couldn’t care less, letting the treat melt on his glossa before letting Tarantulas place another between his dentae, bowing his helm to kiss him. 

     Prowl shivered, pushing against the extra limb in the hopes of grabbing Tarantulas and pulling him down on top of him. His mandibles were splayed as far as they would go, tickling Prowl’s cheeks as they kissed, nearly making him laugh and lose his grip on the treat. Two mandibles closed, snapping it in half before returning to their spots. A servo rested over his fuel tank, squeezing slightly as Tarantulas pulled away, his mouth soon replaced with a gummy. Prowl hesitated, his tanks warning him of their poor condition once again, only to open his mouth for the treat. He would tell himself it was to spite his own systems, prove he could push himself, but he knew he wanted to please Tarantulas...and he  _ definitely _ wanted it anyway. Only a fool would turn down energon after wartime, Prowl reasoned, licking the tips of Tarantulas’ fingers before they were pulled away, so what if he also happened to like it a little more than he should? 

     “You’re such a good mech, Prowl,” Tarantulas sighed, holding a strange pastry up to his lips. Usually, energon treats were hard, or gummy, not weird and fluffy like the treats organics made. Still, Prowl opened his mouth, attempting to mask the shiver the words brought to his frame while he chewed. “I’m glad you let me do this for you. I know you don’t take care of yourself, my sweet muse. It’s such a shame...we’ll have to work on that. Can’t have a pretty frame like your’s decaying.” 

     Prowl whimpered as Tarantulas shoved the rest of the treat in his intake, an extra limb coming to rest on his throat to feel him swallow. Shivering, Prowl hissed, “You’re into this too? Since when?!” Only to for another pastry to be shoved in his mouth. Tarantulas hummed, shamelessly nodding his helm. 

     “For a long, long time, Prowl. But you were so harsh on yourself, never let yourself fuel more than 50%, I didn’t want to bring it up for fear of scaring you. But now…” Tarantulas trailed off, mandibles drumming together as he picked up another treat. “This is the last one, for now. Be good and you’ll get the rest, sweet thing.” Prowl nodded, accepting the treat with a small kiss to Tarantulas’ palm. 

     “Oh Prowl, such a good mech. Such a sweet, good mech,” Tarantulas praised, servos rubbing across his plating. One dipped between his thighs, the heel of his palm grinding against Prowl’s valve cover hard enough to make his vents hitch, doorwings trying to flutter as he whimpered and arched as far as Tarantulas would allow. As soon as he began panting, Tarantulas pulled his servos away. Prowl whined, twisting in the sheets as frustration shot through his frame. 

     “Tarantulas!” He snapped, only for another limb to cover his mouth, effectively silencing him while Tarantulas plucked at his neck cables, nibbling here and there as his servos started to roam across Prowl again. They left heat in their wake, making Prowl feel as though he were burning up despite his fans on as high as they could go. Lifting Prowl onto his knees, Tarantulas slipped behind him, pressing small kisses between his doorwings as his servos skimmed down his sides, coming to a halt between his thighs. 

     “Look at the camera, Prowl,” Tarantulas ordered, stroking his servos up and down Prowl’s inner thighs. Prowl whined but did as he was told, optic locking onto the little red light that signalled their audience. Tarantulas moaned, the vibrations rattling the delicate sensors in the joint of his doorwings, making them spasm as he gasped and moaned, trying to thrash in his grip. They were moving much too slow for Prowl’s liking, an opinion made evident by the lubricants dripping freely from the seams of his valve cover. Humiliation burned through his circuits at the thought of Rewind, or worse, Chromedome, seeing him like this, but the thoughts were chased away by Taratantulas’ digging a finger into Prowl’s thigh seam, pulling a sensitive cable enough for Prowl to bow forward and sob, knees knocking together as his processor struggled to keep up with the pleasurable sensations. 

     Palming his interface array, Tarantulas hummed, his chin coming to rest on Prowl’s shoulders while the mech struggled in his grip, optic flickering out when Tarantulas dug his thumb into the seam of his spike housing. His fingers curled, putting pressure directly over his hole and node. 

     “Are you going to open for me, sweet thing?” Tarantulas purred, “Or will I have to make you?” Prowl whimpered, shaking his helm as his panels snapped back, a flood of lubricants rushing to meet Tarantulas’ fingers. He laughed, nuzzling against Prowl as he flushed with embarrassment, moaning and squirming in his grip. His servo slid up, resting in the small space between the top of his valve and the bottom of his spike and pressing against the mechanism that controlled his panels underneath the plating. Whining, Prowl rolled his hips, the pressure against the mechanism sending a confusing mess of pings to his systems at being stimulated. Tarantulas laughed, his fingers coming to rest between Prowl’s valve lips, only to spread and pin them open for the camera. 

     “Take a good look, isn’t he pretty?” Tarantulas purred, and Prowl whimpered, trying to shut his legs to no avail. Two limbs gripped Prowl’s thighs, prying them further apart while Tarantulas thumbed his node, smearing sticky lubricants across the warm nub before pulling his servo away, curling it around the base of his spike in one smooth motion. Hips bucking, Prowl yowled, servos scrabbling to grab onto Tarantulas’ wrists while he fucked himself with his servo. Tarantulas chuckled, thumbing the head of his spike before sliding back to his valve, rubbing his rim with the tips of his servo. Prowl’s voice came out as a broken, shuddering gasp, begging for more as Tarantulas locked his arms around him, holding him still as he nibbled at his neck. 

     “Shhh, shhh. My sweet, sweet muse, there’s no need to cry like that. We have all the time in the world,” He assured, glossa lapping at Prowl’s neck while he whimpered and moaned. “I’ve hardly touched you, sweet thing. If you’re this desperate now...oh, I can’t wait to see you impaled on my glossa...or my fingers. I bet you’ll squirm so nicely for me. Or maybe it won’t be for me...maybe you’ll squirm all sweet and pretty like for your audience.” 

     “P-Please,” Prowl gasped as Tarantulas’ finger flirted with his entrance, barely slipping in only to be pulled away at the last second. His sensors felt heavy and raw despite not having been touched yet, the lubricants trickling past them an irritating, yet arousing, sensation. It was absolute torture, forcing Prowl’s temperate higher and higher but not letting him have even the slightest relief. Prowl ate it up. 

     “No no, sweet thing. Don’t make me gag you already, I’ll miss that beautiful voice of yours.” Prowl stifled another groan, fighting Tarantulas’ grip in the hopes of grinding against against him. A sharp pinch to his thigh had him yelping, legs opening of their own accord. “Naughty!” Tarantulas hissed near his audial, “Do not deprive me of hearing you.” 


	3. Chapter 3

     Prowl whined, nodding his helm as Tarantulas’ servo returned to his valve, teasingly rubbing a swollen lip with his thumb. The action was simple and hardly provided any stimulation, and yet Prowl still keened, optic crashing as he strained against Tarantulas’ grip. Pressing his thumb into a particularly sensitive spot on his lip had him groaning through clenched dentae, going limp in Tarantulas’ arms and letting him touch and stroke him until his spark was content. “That’s better. Hm, I should get you a collar, put some nice little tags on it. I think we’ll start with ‘pet’-” Prowl nearly yelled, attempting to open his thighs further, only to be stopped by Tarantulas. “-and then maybe ‘toy’, or ‘slut’. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about  _ those _ , sweet thing.” 

     Another pathetic, wrecked whimper was the only response Tarantulas received, Prowl’s optic attempting to flicker back online as one of his limbs came to rub and caress his bumper, slipping into transformation seams and tugging the hidden wires underneath. “Hm,” Tarantulas hummed, reaching to caress Prowl’s node with feather light strokes, “No, no. Those won’t do. ‘Treasured’, yes, that would do well for you.” 

     More shame bloomed in Prowl’s spark as his fans gave a strained wheeze, his valve pouring lubricants at the thought. “Yes, I think so. Or perhaps ‘Precious’, or ‘Adored’...or ‘Good Boy,” Tarantulas’ mandibles rubbed against Prowl’s neck as he purred, optics dimming with unabashed delight. “I almost feel bad for our audience. They get to see you all sweet and desperate, but won’t get to experience it for themselves. A shame, really. Something so pretty should be shared.” Prowl yelped, starting to drool as Tarantulas’ fingers crept towards his entrance, rubbing the rim and teasingly tugging at the side, stretching it slightly. 

     “What kind of collar would you like, sweet thing? Leather? Lace? Maybe something with a bell? Tell us, don’t be shy. I know you’ve thought about this.” Prowl keened as Tarantulas’ servo left his valve, coming up to rub his neglected spike. It twitched, drooling ropes of lubricant down Tarantulas’ knuckles and dripping off to splatter on the berth, or add to the mess on Prowl’s valve. “I’m waiting.” 

     Prowl’s breath shuddered, optic finally managing to online. Attempting to turn his helm got him another sharp pinch, this one higher and on the more sensitive part of his upper thigh, causing him to yelp as the sensation shot straight to his array. “Look at the camera, sweet thing. Let them see your pretty face.” 

     “Tarantulas please,” Prowl whispered, optic relocking on the red light. “Don’t make me.” 

     “I won’t, sweet thing. Don’t fret.” Pressing a kiss to Prowl’s neck, he moved down to his shoulder, trailing kisses the whole way. Taking a shaky breath, Prowl said,

     “A leather one would be nice.” Tarantulas’ optics widened, helm snapping up as he listened with rapt attention. “T-Though, I don’t think I’d want  _ just _ a leather one.” Prowl’s glossa felt thick, anxiety making it clumsy. When they were together, back when Tarantulas was Mesothulas, Prowl was secretive about what he liked, squirreling away his less than usual desires and only revealing them if Mesothulas expressed an interest in the same thing, or otherwise found out about them beyond a reasonable doubt. Mesothulas never knew just how deep the proverbial rabbit hole went, though Tarantulas seemed more than curious, and more than willing to indulge Prowl. 

     “I mean, a leather one would be the logical choice. It’s sturdy then, and it-it can be pulled hard enough to choke, if it’s angled right against the lines. P-Plus they smell nice, and-” 

     “What does it look like, sweet thing? And stop looking down. C’mon now, up!” A limb pressed against Prowl’s chin, tipping his helm back up to the camera. Somewhere along the way, Tarantulas had pulled a small screen out, letting Prowl watch the recording as it was made. It hung off the camera, teasing Prowl with the suggestion of the footage, but it was so small it was hard to make out the kind of detail he wanted. 

     “It-It’s black. A-And it has a silver ring in the front. Maybe two fingers wide? Two and a half? It’s strong, y-you could pull it as hard as you wanted and it wouldn’t break, just choke me.” Prowl felt Tarantulas temperature ratchet up as the words left his vocalizer, incredibly shaky and starting to buzz with static. Prowl moaned as Tarantulas thumbed the head of his spike, pressing against the sensitive tip until Prowl was trying to squirm again, vocalizer spitting out a long groan of static. 

     “And the other?” Prowl swallowed, resetting his vocalizer and whimpering when Tarantulas’ servo stilled. The shame he felt wasn’t quite as strong, but his glossa still felt clumsy when he spoke. 

     “L-Lace, over some kind of webbing...o-or netting. That way it’s strong,” Prowl hissed as Tarantulas’ servo pulled off his spike, finger tips trailing lightly up and down the underside. It was distracting, making Prowl’s words stutter and trail off as his processor fought to process all of the sensations at once while still keeping him awake and coherent. “You could sti-still pull on it then.” 

     “And? Be more specific, sweet thing. We’re on the edge of our seats,” Tarantulas teased, fingers pinching a thick cable under his bumper. Prowl keened, struggling against his grip as more lubricants dripped from his valve, making a mess of the berth beneath them. He was burning up, calipers beginning to cycle down in a desperate attempt at friction while his spike twitched, pre-fluid dripping from the head in long strings. Tarantulas ignored them both, pulling the servo between this thighs away and letting it rest on Prowl’s hip, holding him steady as he plucked and tugged the cables under his bumper. More whimpers were pulled from Prowl’s mouth, his thighs trembling as his sensornet lit up with each tug. The two limbs holding his doorwings opem were almost thrown off as they spasmed, falling down only to shoot back up again, the joint creaking under the sudden movement. 

     “R-Red, it’s dark red!” Prowl yelped as Tarantulas fingers dipped into a transformation seam near his hip, caressing the delicate wires and cabling inside. “T-The ring is silver! And there’s a bell- it’s silver too.” Tarantulas’ servos stilled, letting Prowl catch his breath and speak. “M-Maybe there’s a bow, right over the ring, made of black. Silver lace around the bottom, I don’t know…a chain running along it,” Prowl fell silent, shivering against Tarantulas while the scientist gently stroked him, nuzzling the side of his helm. 

     “Hm, interesting,” He crooned, “I may not have one of those yet, but I can still collar you, sweet thing. You only need to ask.” Prowl bit his bottom lip, chewing at it as he stared at the camera, only to slowly nod his helm. “Yes, what?” 

     “I want you to collar me.” Tarantulas’ smirked against his helm, pressing his servos together in front of Prowl, only to pull them apart with a long, delicate silver thread connecting them. To Prowl’s surprise, he continued to pull more of it free, slowly wrapping it around his neck until it had build up into a solid, flexible collar, akin to leather, but much softer. Pulling the rest of the line, Tarantulas snapped it off with his mandibles, twisting the remaining threads into a leash, which he wrapped around his wrist. Prowl felt like he should have been disgusted, but instead he felt a pleasurable hum in the back of his processor, spreading up until it made his optic feel heavy, bringing it back offline. 

     “Such a good mech...so pretty,” Tarantulas praised, tugging the leash until Prowl was bending forward, following him down until he had to brace himself on his servos, aft in the air and doorwings twitching against his back as cold air ghosted across them. “Now stay right there Prowl, I’ll be right back.” 

     Prowl’s optic onlined, lifting his helm just enough to see over the pillows and watch Tarantulas climb off the berth, adjusting the camera so it was practically in Prowl’s face. He flushed, now able to see himself in the recording; optic bright, coolant spotting his frame, collared and leashed and on his hands and knees like a cheap pleasure mech- 

     Prowl cut that line of thought off quickly, instead tracking Tarantulas’ movement until he had climbed back onto the berth, no longer in Prowl’s line of sight. However, he could watch him in the recording, and he did just that. Leaning forward, Tarantulas covered his back with his own frame, pressing a kiss to the place where Prowl’s neck met his back and trailing them down between his doorwings. Prowl jerked as sensitive nodes were stimulated, moaning weakly as the extra limbs returned to grab his shoulders and wings and hold him down and open, available to his lover’s mouth and fingers. Pulling the collar around, Tarantulas wound it around the post of the berth, securing it with a quick knot as he pressed a kiss to Prowl’s cheek. This close, his hips pressed against Prowl’s open array, drawing a strangled moan at the strange sensation. 

     “Now Prowl, you just stay there and relax. Oh, and no overloading until I say so. Can you do that for me, sweet thing?” Prowl nodded, optic flickering in contentment as he sighed, letting his wings twitch against Tarantulas’ gentle kisses. Tarantulas’ smile turned wicked. “Good. Now, be good for me, okay?” Before Prowl could reply Tarantulas’ mouth opened, mandibles flexing out only to grip the thick, incredibly sensible that ran between his doorwings, clamping down around it and jerking it upwards, scraping the lining and drawing energon.

     Prowl howled, attempting to jerk up only to come up short as the leash stopped, forcing his helm back down while Tarantulas’ extra arms kept his torso pinned. Prowl cringed as he realized he had drooled all over the berth, the soft blankets now wet and sticky and trying to cling to his face. Half choked whimpers and sobs left Prowl’s lips as Tarantulas let the line drop, only to bite back into it and nibble up and down it with the tips of his mandibles. It tickled in the weirdest way, making his wings shake and attempt to pull up and out of the grip from his extra limbs. 

     Just as suddenly as the violent biting began, it stopped, replaced with soothing kisses and licks from a warm, wet glossa. Prowl whispered, shifting his hips to raise his aft higher in the hopes Tarantulas would take pity on him and touch his valve. A huff of warm air from his vents had Prowl keening, optic flickering off as Tarantulas rubbed his servos up and down his doorwings, petting them with long, soothing strokes that errored just on the side of teasing. Next came his claws, stroking over the delicate metal and glass until Prowl was biting into the blankets, stifling his whines. A hard slap to his upper thigh pulled his helm up, however, making him yelp as his optic sputtered online. The collar tightened, guiding his helm back down as he whimpered and trembled, dentae grit together. He could hear Tarantulas chuckling, followed by his thigh suddenly pressing up against Prowl’s array hard enough to make his back bow at an awkward angle, knees sliding forward on the smooth fabric.

     “You’re so wet, Prowl. Perhaps I should do that again,” He laughed as Prowl whimpered, servos curling in the blankets as he shamefully nodded his helm. Gripping his hips, Tarantulas guided them to rock against his thigh, smearing sticky lubricants across him as he bowed forward, pressing a kiss to Prowl’s lower back. Prowl squirmed, small, breathy whimpers leaving his intake as he rocked his hips, embarrassed by how desperate he must seem but also enjoying the stimulation too much to stop. Trailing his glossa down his backstrut had Prowl burying his face in the blankets, only lifting his helm again when Tarantulas’ gave him another smack. 

     “Well now you’re just doing it on purpose,” He sighed, a pout evident in his voice as he pulled his thigh away, keeping Prowl’s hips angled up and back. Prowl whined, optic widening as he tried to sit up and plead, only for an extra limb to grip the back of his helm and force it down into the blankets. Prowl whined, looking up at the recording in the hopes of seeing Tarantulas. At this angle, he could make out himself, the only visible part of his helm his chevron and optic, but couldn’t see well enough past his doorwings to see what Tarantulas had planned. “Remember what I told you Prowl? No overloading?” Prowl nodded. “Good.” 

     A scream tore itself from Prowl’s vocalizer as a warm glossa suddenly swiped across his valve, an equally warm face burying itself into him and purring. Tears pricked the corners of Prowl’s optic at the sudden stimulation, his over sensitized frame scrambling to properly read the feedback. Another lick drew out a long whine, hips attempting to work themselves free from Tarantulas’ grip to grind against his face. He could feel his mandibles twitching, resting in the space between the root of his valve lips and curving over the metal of his array to press against his thigh joint. They twitched, occasionally scraping the sensitive metal or pricking the cables as Tarantulas sucked and licked, plunging his glossa into his hole to curl against sensitive node clusters. 

     Prowl gasped, servos reaching forward to claw at the blankets, grasping at nothing in particular as Tarantulas pulled his node into his intake, sucking gently while his tongue laved across the sensitive tip. Embarrassment filled Prowl’s processors at the wet, sticky sounds his valve made as Tarantulas sucked and licked at him, burying his face as deep as it would go and purring. Prowl whimpered, pressing his face into the berth as warmth coiled in his tanks, spike twitching against his stomach as Tarantulas sucked a lip into his mouth, nibbling it gently with the tip of his mandibles. 

     “T-Tarantulas, please, I can’t-” Prowl gasped, helm falling to the berth as Tarantulas made his way back up to his node, nibbling it with the tips of his mandibles and sucking it into his mouth. A purr was his only response, his glossa laving over his node with hard, flat strokes that had Prowl’s door wings and thighs twitching, drool dripping out of his mouth as he gasped and keened, servos curling in the blankets. “Tarantulas  _ please  _ I’m gonna-” 

     Prowl’s own howl cut him off, optic crashing the same time his vocalizer did, replacing his howl with static. Lubricants gushed from his valve, soaking Tarantulas’ face as transfluid soaked Prowl’s stomach, dripping off them in thick, sticky ropes. Tarantulas chuckling against his valve had Prowl gasping, helm finally able to come up as Tarantulas removed his extra limb, bracing it on Prowl’s back to help himself sit up. Prowl could see Tarantulas’ face, smeared with bright pink that dripped down his chin and clung to his mandibles. A particularly thick string formed a connection between Prowl’s valve and Tarantulas’ mandible, a filthy sight that made Prowl’s tanks clench. 

     “Now Prowl,” Tarantulas’ voice sounded dark, just on the edge of threatening as he loomed over him, servos digging into his aft. “What did I say about overloading?” Prowl’s energon went cold as he scrambled, sputtering and stumbling overs his words. 

     “Oh Primus I’m sorry Tarantulas please I really am I’m so sorry-” One of his spare limbs clapped over Prowl’s mouth, silencing him as he quietly untied the leash, wrapping it around his knuckles and hauling Prowl onto his knees. 

     “You knew the rules, and you disobeyed them anyway,” Tarantulas hissed, hauling Prowl up until they were face to face. Prowl’s tanks twisted, valve bearing down on nothing as he whimpered, staring at Tarantulas with wide optics. Lubricants dripped down his thigh, clearly visible to anyone either watching the recording or right in front of him. Tarantulas huffed, shaking his helm. “Unbelievable. And here I thought you could be a good boy, Prowl. But I see you’re not. No matter, we can fix that. All you need is a firm, guiding hand…” 

     Prowl yelped as he was hauled across Tarantulas lap, one leg trapped under Tarantulas’ own. It kept his thighs spread, valve on display. Prowl whimpered, burying his face in his arms as he shifted, digging the tips of his pedes into the berth and attempting to raise his hips, hoping to entice Tarantulas. He laughed above him, limbs coming to rest on his back and shoulders, holding him still across his lap while his main servos slid up and down his thighs. Hooking his fingers in his valve, Tarantulas pulled him open, exposing his glowing node and dripping hole. 

     “Lookit him,” He crooned, clearly talking to their future audience. “He’s so wet. Such a good boy, if a little naughty.” As he spoke, he continued to stroke and caress Prowl’s valve, thumb occasionally brushing over his node. Prowl’s whines were muffled, obscured by his folded arms. 

     “Please Tarantulas-” He didn’t get any farther in his sentence, a hard slap connecting with his aft shutting him up with a yelp. 

     “You’re already in trouble. Don’t add to it.” Another slap had Prowl whimpering, thighs attempting to clench together as more lubricant ran down his thighs, staining his own plating as well as Tarantulas’. The collar was wrenched, pinching Prowl’s energon lines and making him lightheaded as he scrambled to arch up, raising his helm off his arms as another slap to his thigh made him yelp. “Keep your helm up. I want to hear you.” 

     Prowl nodded, whimpering as Tarantulas set a hard rhythm, occasionally focusing on a single spot, occasionally spreading them out. Prowl was yelping and moaning by the fourth, his optic long offlined as he gasped and drooled, valve clenching down on nothing and spike burning for attention. He attempted to rock his hips, grinding his spike against Tarantulas’ thighs, only for his hips to be grabbed and steadied, letting Tarantulas work as he pleased.  

     “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Tarantulas purred, not breaking his rhythm. Prowl’s sensors were already screaming, his valve aching and practically pouring lubricants while his spike twitched relentlessly. He shouldn’t have been this worked up this quickly, but it had been so long, and Tarantulas liked to tease. “I want an answer.”

     “Y-Yes…” Prowl gasped, crying out as the next slap caught his node. 

     “If you wanted a spanking so badly, you could have just asked, sweet thing. No need to be so naughty.” Prowl nodded, rambling apologies as Tarantulas shifted his attention to the backs of his thighs, the much more sensitive node clusters lighting up near instantaneously. The lubricants didn’t help, the wet slap making Prowl grit his dentae in embarrassment. “Look at you, dripping all over my legs! Oh Prowl, how  _ filthy. _ Maybe I should start hauling you across my lap more often. Or maybe your desk...yes, it is the perfect height. Not to mention, anyone could accidently wander in. I’m sure you’ve upset many people in this office before, I’m sure someone would jump at the opportunity to get a little revenge. But then again, you’d like it, wouldn’t you?” Prowl nodded, too far gone to care as Tarantulas worked his way up, catching his valve lips and node with every other strike. The slaps began to slow, gentle pets and caress beginning to intermingle with them. A slap to his valve, and then a soothing stroke over his sore thighs. Another hard slap, and then a gentle pet to his aft. 

     The next slap caught his valve completely, the painful sting nothing in comparison to the humiliating, wet noise the slap caused. Tarantulas fingers curled, rubbing against Prowl’s node before rearing back for another strike. Prowl whimpered, tilting his hips up to give Tarantulas more access. Soon, they fell into a pattern, each slap followed by his node being stroked, or his rim being pet, or a lip being pinched. Prowl nearly cried when the tip of a servo pushed past his valve ring, barely enough to even be considered penetration, only to be pulled away and followed with a sharp slap. Prowl whined, struggling to push another overload down, his spike caught between his belly and Tarantulas’ thigh. It ached, pre-fluid smearing across both of them and making for a strange, slick friction. Coupled with the texture difference between Prowl’s abdominal plating and Tarantulas’ thighs, it made Prowl’s processor reel. 

     “Tarantulas  _ please _ ,” Prowl whinged, doorwings jerking to stand ramrod straight from his back as Tarantulas caught a particularly sensitive part of his valve with the tips of his fingers, jolting the smaller mech and nearly being enough to tip him over the edge. 

     “Are you close?” Tarantulas asked in a flat tone that shouldn’t have piqued Prowl’s interest as much as it did, his servo not stopping in its pattern. If anything, Tarantulas’ efforts doubled, curling his fingers when his palm connected with his valve or thigh, digging into the sensitized metal and protoflesh. 

     “Yes!” Prowl gasped, his helm nodding quickly as he struggled to make his words coherent, vocalizer threatening to crash again. 

     “Good,” Was all Tarantulas replied with, shifting Prowl to be locked against him and redoubling his efforts, a small smirk on his face as Prowl went rigid and gasped, valve clenching and dripping lubricants. Prowl yowled, rambling out what might have been pleas or apologies as his frame shook, body attempting to twist in Tarantulas’ grasp as a well placed slap to his thigh had him overloading, vocalizer giving out without so much as static. 

     Tarantulas’ servos stroked over his plating, soothing sore sensors and caressing dents that would work themselves out fairly quickly. Prowl was acutely aware of how sticky he was, his own lubricants coating Tarantulas’ thigh while transfluid was pressed into his abdominal seams. Unhooking his leg from around Prowl’s, Tarantulas hauled him up, steadying him on his knees as he stroked across his back and thighs. Prowl felt warm and tingly, doorwings sagging lazily against his back. 

     “Isn’t he gorgeous?” Tarantulas purred, servos pulling his valve lips open for the camera. “Such a good mech.” Prowl whined as Tarantulas guided his hips back, exposing himself further. Pulling the leash, Tarantulas turned him until his back was resting against Tarantulas’ abdomen, his thighs spread across one of Tarantulas’ own. Prowl flushed as he caught sight of the lurbricants dripping down both their legs, clearly from his own valve. Slowly, Tarantulas’ servo made it’s way to his valve, slipping between his lips and smearing lubricants across his node. 

     “I’ve teased him enough, haven’t I?” He purred, clearly amused, “What do you think, Prowl? Should I finger you? Stretch that pretty valve out a bit? I know it’s been a while.” 

     “Yes! Yes please Tarantulas please I’ll be so good-” Prowl groaned as Tarantulas’ ghosted his fingers over his node, one slowly slipping past his valve rim.

     “Oh, you’re so wet, sweet thing.” Prowl whimpered as he rocked his finger in and out of him, pulling an obscene amount of lubricants from his valve on each stroke. “You must think me so cruel, teasing you like this. We can’t have that, can we? What do you want me to do to you, sweet thing? What’s occupied your fantasies recently?” Prow whimpered, attempting to grind down on his finger, only for his extra limbs on his hips to stop him, holding him in place as he slowly, torturously fucked him with a single finger. It wasn’t enough, and they both knew it, but Tarantulas seemed to take a sick pleasure in making him wait, dragging it out until he was a whimpering, wrecked mess. A bead of coolant dripped down his face, splattering on his bumper as he chewed his bottom lip. 

     “I want you to finger me,” He gasped, trying to arch as Tarantulas curled his finger. 

     “And? I am right now, aren’t I?” Prowl grit his dentae, a sob pulling itself unbidden from his intake as Tarantulas stroked across a cluster of nodes. 

     “Properly,” He grit out, suddenly self conscious as he was forced to look at the camera, face completely on display. At least before, he was a decent distance away, or had his face buried in something. Though it meant little, he felt a degree of anonymity, but now? Anyone could see it was him. His spike twitched at the thought; pleasure burning at the base as it attempted to pressurize further only to hit its limit. His housing ached, the pliant protoflesh swollen and pressing torturously between his array and spike. 

     “And what does that mean? More? Less? Harder?” As he spoke, Tarantulas paused, pressing the tip of his finger against that same cluster of nodes until Prowl was keening, face screwing up in pleasure as he gnashed his dentae. 

     “Tarantulas!” He dragged out his name in a high pitched whine, twisting his helm to give him a pleading look. “Please  _ please _ finger me- I’ll beg, I’ll cry, please! Just-” He gasped, breath sawing in and out of his intake as his valve bared down. 

     “That doesn’t answer my question.” There was no concern in Tarantulas’ voice, his tone still hard and unforgiving as he pulled his finger out. Strings of lubricants came with it, clinging stubbornly as Tarantulas rested his servo against his thigh. It sent shivers through Prowl, spike straining at the sound. 

     “I want you to work me up to three, as quickly as you can,” Prowl gasped, the rest of his words lost in a moan as Tarantulas slipped his finger back in his valve, stroking over his walls with little concern for Prowl’s attempts at speaking.

     “And?” Tarantulas didn’t break pace, watching Prowl with falsely disinterested optics. 

     “A-As hard and fast as you can,” Prowl grit out, doorwings seizing shut around Tarantulas’ chest as the tip of a second finger nudged at his rim, “Use me.” 

     “You want me to  _ what _ , Prowl? A little louder for our viewers at home.” Prowl wanted to cry, sink his dentae into Tarantulas if only to stop the teasing. He was desperate, beyond desperate. 

     “ _ Use me Primus damnit, _ ” Prowl snapped, trying to squirm again. “Either let me ride you or trap me and use me as you please! Stop teasing me,” His voice started strong, only to taper off into a pathetic whine as his knees went weak, mouth lolling open as a second finger joined the first, scissoring slowly and forcing the ring of nodes around his rim to light up and burn. 

     “Oh ho, how  _ naughty _ ,” Tarantulas purred, hooking his fingers around where Prowl’s valve curled around the pressurization mechanism. “Hm, I’ll be nice,” As he spoke, he unspooled his multiple limbs, using them to help hold Prowl up and against his chest instead of trapping him. “Go ahead Prowl,  _ use me _ .” 

     Prowl shuddered as his own words were thrown back at him, hips already working to fuck himself on Tarantulas’ fingers. “A-Another,” He bit out, gasping as a third finger slipped inside him, curling and stroking him as he bounced on his servo. “T-Thank you,” He whimpered, one of his servos locking around one of  Tarantulas’ extra limbs while the other curled into a desperate fist around his spike. 

     “Ah-ah! I never said you could do that,” Tarantulas purred, pulling Prowl’s servo away. “Let me help you.” His servos slid down his side, fingers curling around the base of his spike and squeezing until Prowl whimpered, hips twisting to grind against his fingers. 

     “P-Put your thumb on my node. Please!” As soon as he did Prowl yelped, biting down on his glossa as he choked out a strained “Thank you,” before gasping, shifting his hips back to force Tarantulas to catch a node cluster closer to the front of his valve. His fingers weren’t long enough to reach his ceiling node, but Prowl wasn’t about to complain. A chuckle reverberated through Prowl’s back, Tarantulas’ helm coming to rest on his shoulder.

     “That’s it Prowl, get yourself off on my fingers. Such a good mech, c’mon now. I know you’re close. Primus Prowl, you’re so wet, so soft and pliant for me. Oh! You’re spike twitched, how cute. Poor thing, barely gotten any attention.” Prowl whimpered as he slid his servo from base to tip, his grip a vice the entire way. Pressing his thumb to his slit, Tarantulas ground down, listening with clear excitement as Prowl’s breath stuttered, body jerking as his valve squeezed his fingers, drawing them deeper as another overload hit him full force. His valve fluttered, clenching and releasing Tarantulas’ fingers in an unpredictable pattern. Going limp in Tarantulas’ arms, Prowl panted and gasped, optic slowly coming back into focus as the fingers in his valve slipped out, the grip on his spike releasing.

     “My turn,” He purred, grabbing Prowl’s arms and forcing them behind his back. Before he could react, they were bound up in the same silk, the leash hanging down the centre of his bumper. Humming to himself, Tarantulas worked the silks around Prowl, creating a harness that emphasized the curve of his chest and how far his waist nipped in. The silk crossed down his hips an intricate web being created around his spike and valve. It pressed against his lips, holding them open for Tarantulas’ eager fingers.More silk worked down his thighs in pretty patterns, ending about mid thigh before being trailed back up and tied off between his doorwings. The silk was smooth, but was still enough to catch on delicate mechanisms, making them tremble with pleasure. Prowl found he could hardly move, bound up as he was. 

     “Now Prowl, you be good for me, okay?” Prowl nodded, chewing his bottom lip as Tarantulas worked his fingers down, stroking his spike. “You’re going to sit nice and pretty for me, let me touch you as I please, and if you’re good, you’ll get the rest of those treats I promised you earlier.” Prowl whimpered, locking his struts in the hopes of keeping himself up. Reaching over, Tarantulas picked up the camera off the tripod, putting in Prowl’s face with a small cackle. 

     “You’re drooling all over yourself. You must  _ really _ like this.” Prowl nodded, optic following the camera as Tarantulas moved it down, following some of the intricate webbing until it reached his spike. Thumbing the head, Tarantulas crooned “Look, you can see how badly it twitches”, only to bring the camera lower, giving anyone watching a full view of Prowl’s valve. “Look how wet he is, isn’t it grand?” Tarantulas sighed in delight, setting the camera on the berth at an angle that would catch his entire array. “You’re so perfect, Prowl.” 

     Three fingers slipped back into Prowl’s valve, spreading just enough to stretch him while his other servo worked his spike, squeezing just under the head. Prowl’s vents whined, his fans long past screaming as multiple overheating warnings popped into his HUD, his frame all but begging him to go somewhere and get cooled off. Even open mouthed panting and gasping was doing little to bring it down, and the silk rubbing against sensitive seams throwing any progress it might have made out the window. Tarantulas shifted his servo, letting the heel of his palm grind against Prowl’s node while his fingers pumped and curled inside him, rubbing that small cluster of nodes that Prowl was currently damning. It had been one of the few flaws in his construction, and wasn’t determined enough of a weak point to be worth fixing. Prowl would have begged to differ, especially with Tarantulas stroking that spot over and over again. 

     Out of the corner of his optic, Prowl watched Tarantulas’ mandibles open up, the sharp points dripping with saliva as he reared his helm back, only to lunge forward and bury them deep in the junction of Prowl’s neck and shoulder. He screamed, hips jerking as pain and pleasure shot through his circuits. Energon was dripping down his shoulder, splattering on his bumper while Tarantulas ground his mandibles into his plating, no doubt twisting it to the point he would be needing a medic to buff it out properly. Prowl’s screams trailed off into whimpers as Tarantulas extracted his fangs, energon smeared across his face and dripping off his mandibles. He seemed pleased with himself, rubbing them together and working the energon into his intake while he stroked and praised Prowl, crooning sweet nothings in his audial as he twisted his wrist, his fingers grinding against that sensitive cluster while his palm pinned his node. The servo on his spike relaxed its grip, stroking in long, languid strokes as Prowl tipped over again, too exhausted to do more than give a broken moan. 

     Pulling his servos away, Tarantulas shifted, pulling Prowl back until he was once again laying in the nest of pillows and blankets. The camera was shifted, this time back in one of Tarantulas’ extra “servos”, angled to watch Prowl overhead. Straddling him, Tarantulas let his array snap back, his spike extending quickly while his valve drooled. Despite not being 100% inorganic anymore, Tarantulas’ array still looked similar to a Cybertronian’s, though there seemed to be another panel that sat above his spike housing. Whatever it was, Tarantulas kept it shut, choosing instead to grind his valve against Prowl’s spike, drawing a hiss as his fur? Hair? Prowl didn’t want to think too much about it, rubbed against the sensitive metal. 

     “Oh Prowl, you feel so good,” Tarantulas shivered, servo wandering between them to guide the head of Prowl’s spike to rest against his valve rim. It felt different from a Cybertronians, almost as if a set of exterior nodes were placed around the rim, just enough to nudge and rub against a spike as it was inserted. It didn’t phase Prowl, there were weirder mods he’d seen (there were weirder mods he’d  _ considered _ ), and if Tarantulas’ extra eyes and limbs were anything to go by, Prowl wasn’t that surprised. If that was the worst of it, he figured this would go fine. All thoughts left him as Tarantulas sunk down, swallowing his spike to the base with little difficulty and a small groan. His mandibles twitched, starting to pull open only to snap shut again in quick little bursts. 

     “You fit perfectly,” He gasped, grinding down against Prowl. Prowl gasped, helm turning to the side as he dug his pedes into the berth. Tarantulas was soaked, lubricants dripping past his valve rim to pool at the base of Prowl’s spike, too pressurized in its sheath to allow any to drip into it. His walls felt different, too soft and smooth to be protoflesh, no matter how upgraded or “fine” the mesh. Calipers clamped down on Prowl, seeming to hold him in place while Tarantulas fucked himself, gasping and muttering praises as his servos clamped around Prowl’s upper arms, holding him down against the berth and keeping him from bucking up and ruining his rhythm. Prowl whimpered and moaned, a puddle of lubricants under his aft as he attempted to hold himself still for Tarantulas, the urge to buck up only getting worse as the wet heat around him suddenly seized up, squeezing him tighter than a normal valve could. 

     He wasn’t particularly well endowed, and most calipers could only bare down so far before the mechanisms would click together, often a little before the walls could touch. Whatever Tarantulas’ experiments had done to himself seemed to have removed that little hitch, letting him bare down as hard as he wanted. Prowl keened, too far gone to care he was drooling as his hips squirmed beneath Tarantulas, surprised to find he couldn’t buck up if he tried. Tarantulas was heavier than he looked, though Prowl  _ definitely _ wasn’t complaining. The pressure felt good, not to mention Tarantulas could pin him so much easier, force him to take whatever he had to give-

     Prowl yowled as Tarantulas gyrated his hips, his own moans starting to turn high pitched and whimpery as his rhythm began to falter. “Prowl! Oh Prowl, sweet thing, I can’t last much longer,” He gasped, pressing down as his arms came down, grabbing onto Prowl’s abdomen and clinging while he gave a few last weak bounces, falling heavily on Prowl’s lap as he overloaded with a sob. Prowl gasped, his own spike pumping transfluid into Tarantulas as his pedes curled, legs trembling against his lover’s back as Tarantulas collected himself on his spike. He was smirking when he straightened up, optics bright with barely constrained glee. 

     “Such a good mech, Prowl,” He praised, lifting his hips and letting his spike slip out of his valve with a gush of fluids. Sliding off his lap, Tarantulas gripped one of his thighs, pulling it up and open. Prowl gasped as his spike rubbed up against his sensitive valve, still pulled open by the silks, the head catching on the loosened rim and making Prowl’s pedes curl. Tarantulas sighed in pleasure as he pressed the head of his spike past Prowl’s rim, pausing to let him adjust. 

     “Just get on with it!” Prowl hissed, trying to roll his hips down. Tarantulas shook his helm, inching forwards slightly, only to pause when Prowl started making small noises in the back of his intake. “For the love of Primus!” He gasped, “Either fuck me properly or untie me so I can do it myself-” 

     A hard slap to his inner thigh made him yelp, face screwing up as he beat down the urge to whimper and moan. “No rushing, sweet thing. We can’t have you getting hurt, can we?” Prowl whimpered, biting his glossa as Tarantulas slowly, achingly so, worked the rest of his spike into him, sighing in contentment when he was fully seated. Prowl forced himself to swallow to avoid drooling all over himself even more, optic locked on what he could see of Tarantulas past his bumper. His spike’s head had a strange angle to it, one that made it easy to insert and easy to take until Tarantulas pulled out. The angle caught the roof of Prowl’s valve, dragging across sensitive nodes before being pushed back in, the curve of the head making it easy for his ceiling node to be struck. 

     Tarantulas purred and chittered above him, rocking his spike in and out of Prowl with a slow, steady pace. Prowl whimpered, his nodes oversensitive and his valve greedily latching onto Tarantulas’ spike in the hopes of keeping it inside him. Rolling his hips made Prowl bite down on his glossa, muffling a small mewl as he shifted, thumb catching his outer node to rub tight little circles against it.

     “Do you think you could overload again for me, Prowl? I know you’re tired, I can see it in your face, but just one more? Pretty please?” Prowl shivered, forcing himself to nod as he swallowed. His valve was starting to ache, spike only partially pressurized despite Tarantulas beginning to lave attention on it. His doorwings gave a weak twitch as his ceiling node was struck, optic flickering as a moan barely managed to leave his vocalizer. Tarantulas purred, “Good boy” dripping from his mandibles as he picked up his pace, occasionally slowing to grind against Prowl’s array before speeding up again. Prowl had given up on squirming, letting his frame go lax in its silken bindings while Tarntulas worked his spike deeper, purring about how good and warm Prowl felt. Shifting his thumb, Tarantulas caught the underside of his node, rubbing the overly sensitive spot until Prowl was gasping and whining, helm falling back as his backstrut tightened despite his exhaustion. 

     “Oh, are you close my sweet thing? Does that feel good?” Prowl gave a small nod, the tip of his glossa poking out from between his dentae as he tried to ground himself. “I’m sorry sweet thing, I don’t think I’ll last much longer. It’s been so long and you feel so good-” Tarantulas gasped above him, servos curling around Prowl as he overloaded, transfluid splashing against his sensitive walls. His thumb didn’t stop its incessant rubbing, Prowl’s mouth opening in a desperate “oh!” as he overloaded. He had lost count of how many times he had that night; it had been so long since he had last interfaced and his frame seemed more than eager to make up for lost time, as even now his spike gave a few twitches, still pressurized while his valve oozed more lubricants. 

     A small click and hiss of an interface array opening piqued Prowl’s curiosity enough to make him struggle to sit up, peering over his bumper with a wide optic as Tarantulas retracted the third panel, something akin to a spike pressurizing. It was longer, though about as thick with a large, round head that almost appeared to open up like petals. Prowl gawked, watching as a mix of runny lubricants and a thick, viscous fluid akin to transfluid dripped from the mouth at the head, pouring onto Prowl’s array. It twitched, curving up from just above Tarantulas’ spike and settled in a different sheathe (destroying Prowl’s idea of it being a dual spike mod). Tarantulas hummed, the servo with the camera in it coming down to get an intimate close up of Prowl’s valve, dripping transfluid and lubricants and open for all to see. 

     “You’re almost done, sweet thing, I promise. Then you can have your treats, okay?” Prowl nodded, fear and arousal sliding down his backstrut as he stared at the strange appendage. Rocking back, Tarantulas lined up the mouth of the appendage to Prowl’s valve rim, pushing inside with ease. There wasn’t much texture to it, Prowl found, and the fact Tarantulas wasn’t moving wasn’t giving him any stimulation. Whining in a way that no doubt would have earned him the title of “brat”, Prowl clamped his calipers down, hoping to entice Tarantulas into moving. “Patience, sweet thing. You won’t want to rush this.”

     Prowl was about to ask what “this” was, when the appendage seemed to grow inside him- no, something was  _ moving _ in the appendage, forcing the walls to distend to let it pass. One of Prowl’s fans finally gave out as his temperature spiked, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. Of course. 

     “Those better not hatch!” He hissed, groaning as the first egg easily settled in his valve. Tarantulas laughed above him, bowing down far enough to kiss his face. 

     “Don’t worry, they won’t. I’m a hybrid, Prowl, That makes them sterile.” Prowl nodded, letting himself relax and enjoy the sensation of another egg joining the first, followed quickly by another. They weren’t particularly large, and Prowl soon found himself bored, waiting patiently for something bigger. 

     “Is that it?” Prowl asked, too worn out to keep up an air of frustration. Tarantulas rolled his optics, servo squeezing his spike and starting to pump roughly. 

     “You are the  _ least _ patient mech I have ever met, do you know that?” A gush of that strange fluid filled Prowl, leaking past his valve rim as another set of eggs joined the first group. It didn’t take much more after that for Prowl to start to feel it, the sheer amount of eggs making hsi valve feel heavy and full and stretched and delightfully  _ used _ . 

     Prowl whimpered as Tarantulas rocked his hips back, the ovipositor slipping out with a mess of fluids and a single egg. Clicking his glossa, Tarantulas picked it up, holding it up for the camera, and Prowl, to see. It was translucent, and pale green, not much bigger than the marbles Jazz used to play with. Slowly, Tarantulas pushed it back inside Prowl, his fingers coming away slick and sticky as he tapped the side of Prowl’s array. 

     “Shut your valve cover.” Without thinking, Prowl moved to obey, feeling Tarantulas snip the silks around his array to allow his cover to retract. “Good mech. One more overload, okay? And then your treat, I promise.” Initially, Prowl went to protest, complain about how he was fairly certain his tanks were empty, until the stroking of his spike resumed, pleasure shooting through him as his valve bared down on the eggs. He hardly lasted more than a few strokes, yelping as his transfluid soaked Tarantulas’ servo. 

     “That’s it, good. You’re so good, Prowl. Lookit you,” He crooned, removing the silks around Prowl’s spike cover. His array finished closing up, leaving him exhausted and sticky while Tarantulas began the task of unwrapping him, the silks coming away in his servos as easily as if they were simple strings and not capable of holding Prowl still. As soon as they were unwound, a cloth was pulled from Tarantulas’ subspace, warm with solvent as he wiped Prowl’s frame down, the oral lubricants and fluids coming off with ease. 

     “Now you stay right there for me while I get your treat, okay pet?” Prowl nodded, already trying to burrow into the nest of blankets before Tarantulas was off the berth. He must have dozed, because suddenly he was being gently shook, Tarantulas cradling him in his lap and offering him a small cube of gelled energon. Obediently, Prowl’s mouth opened, accepting the treat with a small sigh. His tanks felt empty, no doubt having burned through his fuel during their activities, however long they took. Another treat was pressed to his lips, and Prowl accepted, checking his chronometer as he did so. 

     He nearly choked, optic going wide as he saw the time. “What? Sweet thing what’s the matter?!” Tarantulas fussed, one servo already going to grab Prowl’s jaw and force it open. He shook his helm, swallowing the treat with a cough.

     “I have to be up in an hour,” He gasped, his vocalizer raspy. His HUD display was begging him to rest, pinging him with multiple low energy, low fuel and high heat warnings. Prowl dismissed them all; he had to work. 

     “No, no you don’t. Jazz said you have tomorrow off. Finish your treats, sweet thing, and then you can rest.” 

     “Since when do I have-” Prowl stopped as he scrolled through his messages, seeing one from Jazz that had went ignored during their activities. 

_      Went by your habsuite, heard you were busy. Don’t bother coming in tomorrow, you need the rest Prowler. _

     Prowl’s intake fell open in shock, an angry reply on the tip of his tongue before Tarantulas was shoving a pastry in it, effectively hushing him. “Now, now. No fussing, sweet thing. You need the rest, and your friend was nice enough to give you it. Here, drink this, and then recharge.” A cube was pressed to Prowl’s lips, the liquid inside glowing faintly. Prowl didn’t protest, swallowing it in a few gulps before letting himself go limp against Tarantulas, fans slowly winding down as his frame forced him to recharge. 


	4. Chapter 4

     Prowl’s optic onlined slowly. He felt warm, bundled in something soft and calming while he had recharged. A little disorientated, Prowl checked his chronometer, realized it was noon, and attempted to bolt upright. A gasp tore through his raw intake as something pressed against the walls of his valve, rubbing the raw nodes. “Tarantulas?!” 

     “Shhh, sweet thing. What’s the matter?” He seemed to have come from nowhere, servos gently coming to rest on Prowl’s coolant dotted frame. His fans were still running, though nowhere near as high as last night. 

     “W-What-” He gasped, thighs clenching as his valve bared down on the intrusion. Tarantulas humed with delight, fingers stroking over Prowl’s panels. 

     “Don’t you remember, sweet thing? It’s the eggs.” Prowl shuddered, optic flickering a few times as pleasure shot through his sensornet, still scrambling to reboot after having been in recharge. Tarantulas’ servo stroked over Prowl’s belly. His valve felt heavy, swollen and full with the egs that before had barely phased him. Tapping a finger in the middle of Prowl’s valve cover had it opening, a gush of lubricants and the strange fluid from his ovipositor soaking the blankets. Prowl mewled as Tarantulas slipped a finger inside him, crooking it to press against one of the eggs and pull it forward into his channel. The rest shifted, bumping together and making Prowl squirm at the foreign sensation. The first came out easily enough, falling into Tarantulas’ palm with a disgustingly wet noise. 

     Tarantulas’ optics were glowing as he held the egg up, now nearly the size of his palm. They had turned a deep pink, almost as if they had leached the lubricants and transfluid from his valve. “Do you want to touch it?” Tarantulas asked, clearly giddy as he plopped the egg into Prowl’s servo before he could reply. It was warm and wet, and incredibly soft. Prowl frowned, squeezing it gently and watching as the gelatinous sphere warped around his fingers. 

     “Aren’t they delightful? They get bigger and softer, and they’re so small initially tis so easy to stuff you full of them with little fear for when they grow,” Tarantulas sighed, a second finger slipping in to scissor Prowl’s valve rim, helping stretch him open as some of the more densely packed eggs began to loosen, shifting inside him and sliding towards his channel. More fluid dripped from his valve, coating his walls and making him slick enough for one of the eggs to slide down, pressing on internal sensors before falling into Tarantulas’ waiting servo. Prowl gasped, his spike cover retracting and spike pressurizing into another waiting servo, a few gentle strokes meeting it while Prowl keened and tossed his helm around. 

     “Don’t worry Prowl, it’ll be over soon. Then I can frag you through the berth again. Or maybe you want something else, my sweet thing?” Prowl gasped, baring down on the eggs and pushing another into position. It slid out with surprising ease, and dimly Prowl wondered just how stretched out and used he really was. The three that had been removed seemed to be nough to upset the rest, as soon multiple eggs were crowding at his channel, trying to force themselves out at the same time while Prowl keened at the burning stretch, servo coming down to rub his burning node. Tarantulas squealed with delight at the sight, bending to press a kiss to the sensitive bud before returning to coaxing more eggs out of Prowl. Some still had semi solid patches on their membranes, not as big as the others but providing a strange stimulation as their texture shifted. 

     A pair slipped down his channel, both crowding at his valve entrance and making his rim burn with the stretch, obscene, wet noises pulled from his valve as Tarantulas carefully removed them. Prowl’s optic crashed after that, overstimulated frame writhing on the berth as Tarantulas crooned above him, practically singing his praises as he coaxed the eggs out of Prowl, a smile brood growing between his legs. Soon, Prowl lost count of the eggs, giving up on tracking the time as an overload hit him and took all last ditch efforts at control out of his processor. Prowl keened and gasped, howling out Tarantulas’ name when the burn got too intense and settling for small whimpers when it died down. 

     Before long, Prowl’s fans were back on their highest setting, a wheeze coming from his overworked systems as coolant beaded down his face and transfluid splattered his plating. His circuits felt fried, absolutely exhausted and overworked. Soon, he stopped writhing, going limp against the blankets and letting Tarantulas pet and play with him as he pleased. 

     "Prowl, Prowl?” Prowl gasped, jerking against the servos on his bumper before he realized it was still just Tarantulas looming over him. “Sweet thing, it’s over. You did so  _ good _ ,” Before Prowl could react he was pulled into an embrace, cuddled against Tarantulas’ chest as a cube of energon was brought to his lips, held steady for him as he sipped. Extra limbs roved over him, one clutching a cloth and wiping off the coolants pooling on his frame while the others stroked over raw sensors and cables, pausing to rub out any tension. “How do you feel?” 

     “Sore,” Prowl replied, his voice rasp, “But good, very good.” Tarantulas chirruped with delight, pressing kisses to Prowl’s face and cuddling him deeper into the blankets. Prowl wasn’t sure where the eggs had gone, but he wasn’t going to ask, too tried to deal with it. Another cube of energon was pressed to his lips, and he latched on gratefully, the cool liquid soothing to clenching of his empty tanks. As soon as it was gone, Prowl was being lifted, his frame cradled in Tarantulas’ arms as he walked to the washracks adjacent to his room. 

     “I’ve spliced the video together. I can send it to Rewind after we bathe.” Prowl nodded, helm lulling against Tarantulas’ shoulder. Revenge was far from his mind, too blissed out to think of much more than curling back up in the blankets and not leaving for a few hours. Though he had to admit, he felt sticky and gross, in desperate need of a wash. Flipping on the solvent stream, Tarantulas stepped under it, letting Prowl down but keeping him pressed to his chest as the stream poured over them. 

     Humming in contentment, Prowl tipped his helm up, luxuriating in the warm solvent as he regained his struts, legs still shaky. Tarantulas was humming again, mandibles rubbing together as he cleaned Prowl with a soft rag, removing any dried transfluid or lubricants from his thighs and panel. “How do your thighs feel?” 

     “Fine. Good,” Prowl purred, arching his backstrut as Tarantulas swiped the cloth across his stomach. 

     “I didn’t hit you too hard?” Prowl shook his helm, doorwings stretching out as Tarantulas gently pet one, his extra limbs constantly in contact with parts of Prowl’s frame. One crept down, gently massaging the scuffed and dented metal, the sensors beneath lighting up in pure contentment at the gentle handling. “I’ve missed you so much, sweet thing. My beautiful muse,” Tarantulas moaned, letting his helm rest on Prowl’s shoulder. 

     Prowl found himself nodding in agreement. He hadn’t realized it, but he had missed him as well, even with all his new changes and quirks. Tarantulas fell mostly silent after that, content to just hum and nuzzle into Prowl while he washed him, making sure his plating was shining before starting on himself. Prowl twisted, turning to face Tarantulas and pressing his faceplate into his collar while he took the rag from his servo, rubbing circles against his side. The solvent bubbled against his plating, the hair making it almost foam instead of staying relatively smooth like on Prowl’s plating.

     “How did you even get like this?” Prowl mused aloud, shocked when Tarantulas gripped the wrist currently working the rag across his now bubbly frame.

     “I spliced my genes with an organic creature called a “spider”, Prowl. I  _ made _ myself like this,” Tarantulas sounded uncharacteristically melancholic, optics downturned and mandibles clenched tight. 

     “Do you regret it?” Prowl regretted the words the second they left his mouth, but he supposed it was too late now. 

     “Do you find it disgusting?” Prowl was about to snap back that he had asked first, only for the regret at his previous statement to choke him. 

     “No. Different, yes. Repulsive? Less so.” Tarantulas’ mandibles laced together, happily tapping against each other.

     “Then no. I never have. I am stronger, bigger, and I have more servos, which are very useful in the lab. There’s no reason for me to  _ want _ my old frame back.” Prowl nodded, pulling Tarantulas further under the spray to wash away the bubbles. “You’ve changed your frame a lot too, Prowl. Why?” 

     “Trying to clean up after the war, mostly.” Tarantulas nodded, cradling Prowl to his chest before reaching over to finally shut the solvent stream off. Guiding Prowl out, Tarantulas wrapped him in a towel, quickly drying himself off before scooping him up into his arms and walking back towards the berth while Prowl laughed. His plating had already dried, though Tarantulas was still damp, though drying fast. Dropping Prowl back into the nest of blankets, he climbed up after him, cuddling him close and shifting him around until his many limbs were all somehow tangled around or touching a part of him, kisses being pressed to his helm. 

     “You’re so soft,” Prowl murmured, nuzzling into the clean hair that covered Tarantulas. It had fluffed up after drying, rubbing against his face and servos in a way that made Prowl want to never stop touching it. Tarantulas seemed amused, redoubling his efforts to kiss Prowl while he chuckled, stroking between his doorwings. 

     “You’re gorgeous, Prowl. You know that?” Prowl didn’t answer, ducking his helm to kiss Tarantulas’ neck as a flush rose to his cheeks. 

     “Do you have to leave?” He asked after a time, still petting Tarantulas strange hair. He shook his helm, stroking Prowl’s doorwing. 

     “Only if you want me to.” Prowl nodded, nuzzling into Tarantulas’ chest.

     “Don’t.”

     “Goin’ soft on me?” Prowl snorted.

     “No. I just wanna see Rewind’s reaction when he opens that video.” Tarantulas laughed, cuddling Prowl closer and shifting to lay his helm on a pillow. 

     “Of course, my sweet muse. I’ll let you know. Do you want a copy?” Prowl hesitated, the anxiety of admitting his desires still looming over his helm, before nodding quickly. Immediately, a message from Tarantulas popped into his feed, a cheesy message accompanying a large video file. 

     “Oh primus...I didn’t think we had that much.” Tarantulas smirked.

     “And that’s edited down.” Prowl hoped he never ran into Chromedome or Rewind ever again. 


End file.
